


Silver and Honey

by X23 Maximoff (whindsor)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, certainly not me, like 38 chapters in, or so, so who knows what's going on, this is my first time posting on this site, well neighbors to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-08-07 16:05:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 67
Words: 374,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whindsor/pseuds/X23%20Maximoff
Summary: Mika assumed she was destined for a quiet, normal life in Bucharest. She had her friends, her job, and occasional hobbies. But when her new neighbor with a metal arm saves her from a would-be assailant, she starts down a path that she didn't quite anticipate...and she doesn't do well with things she can't anticipate. Begins a few months after TWS and will go through the rest of the MCU.





	1. Cake Any Way You Slice It

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This story was originally posted on ff.net. This is my first time trying to work ao3, so if there's issues, please bear with me. Hope y'all enjoy!

Note: There is an attempted assault in this chapter. Nothing explicit.

She didn’t expect her hallway to be busy on a Tuesday morning. She was settled at her desk, happy to sit and get her work done in peace. That’s when she heard the tell tale signs - the bumping of furniture into walls, the grunts of someone navigating the tight corridors with limited visibility, and the constant opening and closing of the door across from hers. She knew the previous tenant had moved, but didn’t realize that the turn around would be so fast. She was very curious about the new occupant, but every time she got up from her laptop to look through the peephole, she was always a little too late. She only got a glimpses of her new neighbor through slowly shutting doors and close packed stair rails. She could tell they were relatively young, and seemed to be relatively in shape; after all, they were moving a solid amount of furniture by themselves. However, her job seemed to be conspiring against her, keeping her from fully creeping on the new resident. Every time she would hear someone coming up the stairs, her laptop would ping, alerting her to another bug in her program. 

After about six different attempts to spy on her new neighbor, she gave up. The curiosity was still present, eating away at the back of her mind as she hunched over her laptop. It was a small building, she reasoned. And a small town. She was bound to run into them eventually. Based on the glimpses she caught earlier, the new neighbor was either a man or a very muscular woman, either of which would be welcome to her (small) circle of friends. 

By the time evening rolled around, she noticed the banging on the walls and feet on the stairs were absent. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she heard the sound of the door opening and closing. So the new neighbor was all moved in, then? 

She could suddenly hear her mother’s voice, lecturing her.  _ You need to go welcome them to the neighborhood, Mika! The silence after unloading into a new space is heavy. You know what lightens it? Cake. _

To be fair, one thing she and her mother always agreed on was that cake improved most situations. 

She stared at her own door for a long time, trying to decide her next move. Was it still considered cordial to greet people moving in next door? Or creepy? Her gaze shifted to her kitchen counter, where half of a small chocolate cake sat under a glass dome. After a few agonizing moments of debate, she gathered her courage and stood up, crossing the tiny apartment with determined strides. She didn’t think too hard, cutting a large chunk from the cake and carefully moving it to a small plate. As she laid cling wrap carefully over it, she became acutely aware that she was still in her pajamas. The plate stayed half covered on the counter, waiting for her as she went to her closet. Again, she tried to keep her thoughts from taking over, simply exchanging her flannel pants for some jeans and slipping a bra on under her tshirt. Casual. Just keep it casual. 

She finished covering the plate and slid on her shoes. She would keep it quick. Short introduction, brief welcome, hand over sweets, and retreat. Don’t linger. Don’t make it weird. Her heart rate elevated as she opened her door, taking two steps into the hallway before halting.

What if they didn’t like chocolate?

She stared at the cake, as if asking it to magically transform into something the person next door would like. However, since it was unfortunately an ordinary cake, it stayed its original form. She steeled her resolve - worst case scenario, they would take the cake, make no conversation, and never return her plate. Best case scenario, they wouldn’t be home, and she could abort her mission and return home to eat the cake herself. 

She quietly inched to the door, all the confidence she had a few minutes ago draining like sand in an hourglass. The hallway was uncomfortably silent, holding the evening lull between the day shift and night shift. She stood in front of the door for a moment, listening intently; the walls were relatively thin, but she didn’t hear any noises coming from the apartment. Maybe she would get lucky and they would be out for the evening. She raised her hand, preparing to knock, but a frustrated noise from inside the apartment distracted her. She faltered, shifting her weight and attempting to garner her courage again. Unfortunately for her, the floor creaked loudly under her foot. Her heart dropped, and she barely heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor over the rushing of the blood in her ears. She quickly put the plate on the ground in front of the door, bounding across the hall and into her apartment. She shut the door quietly, leaning up against it and looking through the tiny glass eyelet. The apartment door opened across the hall, finally showing her the face of its resident.

He looked young - around her age, maybe - but carried himself as if he were much older. His dark hair was longer than she expected, hanging around his face like a curtain. He looked to either side of his door, then finally noticed the plate on the floor. He stared at it for a long time - a weirdly long time. Long enough that she considered going into the hallway herself and telling him it wasn’t a bomb or anything dangerous. After what felt like ages, he bent down and picked it up, taking a closer look at it. He took another look around the perimeter of the hallway, his eyes pausing on her door. She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding. He turned and went back inside, closing the door behind him. 

Mika collapsed into one of her dining room chairs, trying to control her heart rate. Her cheeks still burned with embarrassment, though she couldn’t pinpoint why exactly she felt so mortified. She hadn’t even actually met him, not face to face. The door had always been between them.

Even though first contact was not successfully made, her plate still ended up at her door the next day. 

To be clear, she didn’t actually see him the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, almost a week went by before Mika saw her new neighbor again. Of course, they didn’t run into each other on the day that she got dolled up for her best friend’s birthday, or the day her workout outfit actually matched and had her looking like she had her life together. No, he had to leave his apartment at the exact time she was on her knees in front of her door, bags of groceries toppling over while she tried to pick her lock for the hundredth time. They both stopped, staring awkwardly at each other as the silence slowly smothered them.

“Do you live here?” he asked, finally breaking the tension. His voice was softer than Mika expected, though his gaze was very serious. She wondered what kind of neighborhood he lived in before that had him so defensive. 

“Um, yes. Yes, I do. I just forgot my keys inside.” she explained. He was staring as if he were trying to figure out a hidden meaning to her words. His lack of response encouraged her tendency to ramble. “I have this bad habit of turning the lock on the knob on my way out but I don’t always grab my keys before I go so...this kind of happens a lot.”

He looked at her for a long time before finally saying, “Okay.” He turned, locked his own door, and trotted down the stairs without another word. She let out a long breath.

“Excellent first impression, Mika. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.” she muttered to herself as his footsteps faded down the staircase. Her lock clicked open, the door swinging open silently. “Now he thinks you’re awkward  _ and _ a criminal. Wonderful. Really.” 

She gathered her grocery bags, continuing to chastise herself as she took them inside and dropped them on the kitchen counter. Her phone was ringing somewhere amongst the bags, but she couldn’t get them out of her hands fast enough to answer it. She cursed her bracelet loudly as it stuck in the bag handle, shaking her hand violently to free it from its plastic prison. She only thought afterwards to check and make sure there were no eggs in the bag. Luckily, the only collateral damage was a now severely bruised apple.

Her phone finally surfaced, a missed call notice from her best friend glaring at her from the screen. She swiped the pop up, electing to call her back without checking the voicemail first. She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, organizing her groceries as it rang.

“Alo?” her best friend sang as an answer.

“The groceries were holding me captive.” Mika said.

“I don’t need your excuses. You should be waiting by your phone at all times for me to call.” she said shortly.

“Elena, one of these days you’ll have to let me have a life.” Mika replied.

“I’ll take it into consideration.” Elena said. “In the meantime, what did you buy for tonight? Hopefully not that shitty sweet wine you got last time.”

Mika held up the bottle of riesling to which Elena was referring. “I absolutely got it again. It was delicious. But I also got something dark and bitter for you too.” she said, taking out a bottle of bordeaux and putting it on the corner of the counter. The riesling went into the refrigerator.

“As long as there’s choices I suppose. I was planning on bringing some soup and bread since it’s been cold out. Does that sound good to you?” she asked. Mika made a noise of agreement as she put away her premade meals for the week.

“Sounds amazing.” she said.

“And what’s for dessert?” Elena asked.

“Well I passed by that amazing Greek restaurant on my way home, but the line was out the door and I didn’t have time to wait. So we’re going to have some baklava.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you tonight then.”

“See you tonight!” Mika replied. They said their goodbyes, allowing her to put her phone down and finish organizing her groceries. Occasionally she remembered the interaction with her neighbor in the hallway and felt the heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck again, but she dutifully tried to ignore it.  _ He’s a man _ , she thought to herself.  _ If he even noticed it, he’s probably forgotten about it by now. Live your life. _

She busied herself for the afternoon making her filo dough and the filling. It had been a while since she’d made baklava, and it was one of her more complicated cravings, so she took extra time to make sure everything turned out right. She had light, breezy music drifting through the small apartment as she rolled and mixed. She had a glass of wine on the counter, its contents slowly emptying as the baking tin filled with pastry. This was her happy place. 

She was just pulling the baklava out of the oven when Elena walked through the front door, a large pot in her hands and a loaf of bread in a bag dangling from her fingers. Mika was so startled she almost dropped her baking dish, but caught it just in time to keep everything inside.

“You know, if you’re going to be so jumpy, you should probably remember to lock your door when you come inside.” Elena said, putting the pot on the stove. 

“Well I was very concerned about being locked out earlier, I suppose I forgot to lock it again when I finally broke in.” Mika replied, laying the pan of sweets on a rack on the countertop to cool. 

“Why don’t you just keep a spare key under the mat?” 

“I did. But then I had to use it and I forgot to put it back.” she replied, gathering dishes and silverware for them to use. 

“It does have to be under the mat for it to be useful.” Elena said, mixing the soup in the pot while Mika cut the bread into large chunks.

“On the bright side, my new neighbor caught me breaking in. It was a very charming first meeting.” 

“You have a new neighbor? What happened to Jorgen?” Elena asked, leaving the soup to uncork her bottle of wine. She took a swig straight from the bottle before taking the glass Mika handed to her. 

“Jorgen moved to a weird basement apartment below the club he used to invite me to all the time. There he can play his keyboard in peace.” Mika said. Elena gasped dramatically.

“Did he move in with Blue Hair Girl?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her since the night she threw him down the stairs.” she said with a shrug. Elena pouted.

“That was over two months ago. Shame, Blue Hair Girl actually seemed kind of cool.” she lamented.

“So did Jorgen, until we actually spoke to him.” Mika pointed out. Elena waved the comment off. 

“But Blue Hair Girl was different. I mean, she had  _ blue hair _ . People with blue hair can be taken at face value. They love themselves. They have nothing to hide.”

“Have you met anyone else with blue hair besides Blue Hair Girl?” Mika pointed out.

“Just because my sample size is small does not negate the fact that one hundred percent of people with blue hair that I have met have been cool people.” Elena said stubbornly, taking the two bowls Mika had gotten out earlier and ladling soup into them.

“I’m not a scientist, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how research works.” 

“Well I  _ am _ a scientist, so trust me.” 

“Whatever you say.” Mika consented, taking her bowl and a piece of bread to the living room, setting them on the low table there. “What do you want to watch tonight?” she asked, turning on the television before going and grabbing her glass of wine from the counter. Elena set herself up next to Mika in the living room.

“Is that Mad Max out yet?” she asked.

“No, but I can get it.” Mika replied, scrolling through the apps on her television. 

“I will never understand this witchcraft.” Elena said lowly.

“It’s not witchcraft, you just have to unlock the Fire Stick-”

“No no no, I don’t want to know what you do for this. I need plausible deniability whenever the police come for you.” she said, holding her finger against Mika’s lips to shush her. Mika shrugged, turning back to the screen.

“Suit yourself.” she replied, pulling up the movie and starting it. 

Two hours, two bottles of wine, and many tears later, the girls were sprawled across Mika’s couch, idly watching a cooking show and critiquing the contestants more than the judges paid to do so. Night had fallen some time ago, and they were hitting the critical point between falling asleep or rallying for a night out. So far, sleep was winning. 

Mika noticed the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Usually they stopped long before her floor, but these kept climbing. 

“Is that the new Jorgen?” Elena asked lazily.

“No one can ever replace Jorgen.” Mika replied with a dramatic sigh. The footsteps continued their ascent. Elena attempted to leap off the couch, the wine making her movements a little more awkward and a little less coordinated. She went to the front door and leaned against it, watching through the peep hole. The footsteps were reaching the last stair case. Elena gasped.

“Mika he looks so rugged and handsome!” she said.

“And you sound like those awful soap operas. Or my mother.” Mika replied, maintaining her position on the couch. Elena skipped back to the couch, grabbing Mika’s arm and pulling her towards the door.

“Come on, let’s say ‘hi’ to him.” she said. Mika pulled back, refusing to move.

“There is no need for us to say ‘hi’ to him. Not in our current state.” she said.

“What, do you need to impress him? Do you want to woo him?” Elena asked, still tugging on her friend’s limb.

“Wooing is out of the question. My master plan is to make friends with him so that he can help me carry heavy things up the stairs.” Mika said. Elena successfully pulled her off the couch and onto the floor. 

“Well you need to start by saying ‘hi’ to him then.” she reasoned.

“Not tonight!” 

“But what if you have something heavy to carry tomorrow?”

“Then I will manage, just as I have before.” Mika said. She clambered to her feet, just to have Elena pull her towards the door. This time, she was unable to hold her ground. Elena opened the door, shoving Mika forward with a puckish laugh. Mika stumbled into the empty hallway, barely catching herself on the stair rail. The hallway was empty; she had crash landed just in time to hear the lock click on her neighbor’s door. She let out a sigh of relief, glad that she had avoided that awkward interaction. She quietly walked back into her apartment, the adrenaline making her legs even more wobbly. Elena was back on the couch, her phone lighting up her face with its blue glow.

“That was quick.” she remarked. Mika opened her mouth to respond, but Elena kept going. “Nicolae invited us out to that pub just north of Old Town. Do you want to change before we go?” 

“I think I’m going to just stay in tonight. I don’t feel like dealing with people.” Mika said. Elena perked an eyebrow.

“Are you sure? I think Alexei will be there.” she said with a teasing intonation. 

“Even more reason for me to stay home.” Mika said with a grimace. “Alexei is very cute, but his personality is not. Either way, I have a big project starting on Monday, and I’d like to get my rest.” 

“That’s a fair assessment.” Elena said with a shrug. “Well, suit yourself. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble without me.” Mika said, embracing her friend before seeing her out the door. She let out a breath, glad that she had gotten out of a night on the town without too much of a fight. She’d told Elena the truth - the company she worked for had just acquired a massive contract, and the next few weeks were going to be critical for the upstart of the project. Going out with her friends would have been fun, but she was happy to have an early night with no social obligations. 

Though she predicted work would be hectic over the next few weeks, she was not mentally prepared for exactly how tedious and mercurial her new project managers would be. This meant that a project that would normally take Mika three weeks of steady coding to complete instead took six weeks, four frantic phone calls to her programming genius friend in the UK, three episodes of crying in the shower, and a strong desire to make her coffee more on the Irish side in the morning. During that time, Mika didn’t do much except work, sleep, and the occasional pit stop at the gym. Her schedule was completely derailed, which was not something she appreciated. She hated coming home late at night, but she also had the habit of allowing her work to absorb her, meaning she didn’t realize it was late until she finally broke her eyes away from the computer screens and noticed the night blanketing the city. She tried to be quiet as she ascended the five floors to her apartment, balancing on the balls of her feet as she climbed up and up and up. On more than one occasion her neighbor caught her massaging her calves at the top, trying to work out the burning cramps that seized them. Mika had come to terms with the fact that no matter what time of day, if she was doing something weird outside her apartment door, her neighbor would choose that time to come home. 

Finally, after six weeks of unceasing brain power and stress, Mika was finally free. She was exhausted, yes, but really really needed a drink. A good, strong drink. She tried to be good, going to the gym for an extra half hour right after work in an attempt to clear her system before she drank it all away that night. It put her a little behind for the evening, but she figured in the long run it would be worth it.

She tried to sprint up her stairs, but gave up around the third floor. She tried to maintain a slow jog the last two flights, but was sweating again and gasping for air by the time she reached the top. She decided that earned her an extra drink. Of course, her neighbor decided to leave his apartment at that time, his brows furrowing in concern as he spotted her. Mika gave him a wave, trying to show that she was in fact fine and not dying of asphyxiation in the stairwell. She let herself into her own apartment before he could say anything, deciding that she now deserved  _ two _ extra drinks. 

She grabbed some water from the fridge, rapidly drinking it in an attempt to cool down. She knew she needed to eat, but that would have to wait until later. She finished the water, dropping the bottle in her recycling bin before making her way to her bathroom. She didn’t bother waiting for the water to warm up in the shower, moving under the spray while it was still icy cold. Goose bumps covered her skin, but she didn’t care. She had things to do. She made quick work of the soap and shampoo, trying to buy back the time she lost earlier. She nearly slipped on the tile of the bathroom trying to get out of the tub, but was able to catch herself on the edge. There would likely be a bruise on her hip later from it, but that was the least of her worries. She had just put the blow dryer down and picked up her curling iron when Elena rang her. 

“Alo?” she answered, putting her on speakerphone. 

“I’m on my way! Are you almost ready?” she asked.

“Um, getting there. Walk slowly.” she replied, swearing quietly as she burned her finger on the curling iron. 

“Fine. I’ll stop for snacks.” she said.

“Yes, yes, perfect. See you soon.” she agreed, hanging up before Elena could respond. She attempted to hurry the curling of her hair, which mainly led to more burned fingers. After hair came makeup, which took longer than she would like. Considering most days she was hiding behind computer screens, makeup was not a common practice for her. But she managed to get enough on to make a difference before Elena was calling again.

“I’m almost ready.” she said by way of greeting. Elena huffed and hung up again. Mika quickly slipped her dress on, grabbing her shoes, bag, and phone before running out the door. With the adrenaline of tardiness running through her, taking the stairs quickly was not as difficult as it was earlier. Maintaining her grip on all her items was more of the challenge. 

“You’re a mess.” Elena said when Mika tumbled out onto the sidewalk. She was leaning creepily against the lamppost, the light making her stand out against the dark street.

“I didn’t manage my time very well today.” she admitted, putting her stuff in her purse and slipping her heels onto her feet. 

“Well that doesn’t matter now, because it has been entirely too long since you’ve gone out with me and tonight we’re going to have every drink. All of them.” Elena said, linking her arm through Mika’s as they set off down the street. 

“I don’t know if I can handle all of them.” Mika said. 

“No, no, we share all of them.” Elena amended. 

“Oh, well, that’s totally plausible.” she agreed. They took a turn onto a smaller street, which was empty thanks to the later evening hour. It was a little too early for those going out on the town, but Mika and Elena tended to do it that way on purpose. That way, most of their friends wouldn’t be present to judge them for their pre-drinking meals. The small street they were on dead ended into a busier one, the foot traffic already building for the night. Their favorite pub was still relatively quiet when they ducked into it, and they waved to their favorite bartender as they claimed the booth in the corner. 

Mika laid back against the worn leather seats, finally taking a moment to sit and be still. Life had been so hectic the past few weeks, and she hadn’t realized the toll it was taking on her until this moment. She felt tired - mind, body, and soul. For a second, she regretted agreeing to come out tonight. But then Hans (the favorite bartender) arrived with a steaming plate of garlic and cheese chips and two pints of Guinness, and that was all it took to renew her.

“Hans, you saint.” Elena said, taking the dish from him. “How did you know?”

“Mika looked exhausted. You two need carbs to jump start the night.” Hans explained, placing the beer down in front of them.

“You know, when you tell a girl she looks exhausted, that’s code for saying she looks like shit.” Mika pointed out, taking a large bite from the food in front of her and washing it down with a few gulps of beer.

“Well in Hans Language, exhausted is code for ‘needs more food’.” he said.

“I like Hans Language.” Elena said decisively.

“Me too. It’s very encouraging.” Mika agreed. 

“I’ve spent a lifetime developing it. Most things just lead to more food or more drinks.” Hans said, as if the fact were obvious. “Anyway, I’ll be right back with something to eat for you two.”

“But you didn’t take our order!” Elena called as Hans walked away. Hans waved her off, implying that he already knew what they would want. “Hans always thinks he’s so cool, just getting people food without asking.”

“To be fair, he was on point with these.” Mika said, her mouth full of cheese and potato. 

“Don’t let him hear you. It’ll only fuel his ego.” Elena said in a hushed tone, digging back in to the plate in front of them. 

True to his word, Hans returned shortly, bringing with him a triple-layer hamburger with a matching pile of fries. He also put down two more pints, even though both girls were just about halfway through their first. They thanked him profusely, taking the plate with awe and excitement.

“And was he wrong?” Mika asked, taking the knife from her bunch of silverware and cutting down the middle of the burger. Elena shushed her, taking her half of the burger and tucking in.

There were a few fries left on the plate when their other friends arrived, but luckily the massive burger was hidden away in their stomachs. Mika and Elena slid close together in the booth, allowing for Nicolae, Alexei, Jonas, and Jonas’ new girlfriend Maria to squeeze in with them. Mika found herself feeling a little uncomfortable, and not only because of the close quarters. With all the overtime she spent at work over the past month and a half, she had gotten used to being by herself. The only people she’d really seen had been her quiet neighbor and Elena, one of whom could carry on a conversation with a house plant (and had, on more than one occasion). She felt a little bit claustrophobic, surrounded so closely by so many people that were all talking at her. Hans brought her another Guinness, and she was grateful for something to do with her hands while trying to catch up on the past few weeks of her friends’ lives. 

By the time she was done with the third drink an hour later, she was feeling much more relaxed and had almost adjusted back to her normal settings. That was about the time Nicolae suggested they go to a new club a few blocks over. Mika was happy to agree; this place was closer to her apartment, which would mean a shorter walk home later. They settled up with Hans, then set off to their destination. The foot traffic was heavier now, the sidewalks cluttered with people. The girls’ heels made a cacophony of clicking as they strode on the concrete, their laughter rising to the street lamps. Mika loved how the city came alive at night, the way people seemed more open to the world around them. Their eyes were up and sparkling, as opposed to the daytime, when their gazes dusted the concrete and they tried to avoid any excess interaction. 

New spots were either extremely busy or extremely empty their first few weekends. This one was packed with people, a swirling mass of bodies moving in time with the beat. The music was loud, and Mika felt like the bass vibrated her limbs every time it hit. Elena and Nicolae put themselves in charge of getting drinks, leaving the other four to attempt to find a table. A booth in the corner had a bunch of mostly-empty glasses and completely empty seats. They claimed it, hoping its original owners had moved on with their night. Maria slid in first, stacking the glasses neatly in the corner to empty the table space in front of them. Jonas, of course, followed her, leaving Mika to share a side with Alexei. She really didn’t mind Alexei most of the time, he just tended to do things that made her slightly uncomfortable - like resting his arm on the booth behind her with his hand casually on her shoulder. 

Mika wasn’t sure how Elena and Nicolae both ended up with an entire tray of drinks, but she didn’t ask questions. Instead, she took the opportunity to lean away from the back of the booth - and Alexei’s hand. After two rounds of shots, Mika was quickly forgetting about her stress from work and enjoying the night much more.

“Let’s dance!” Elena exclaimed a while later, grabbing Mika’s hand and dragging her out onto the dance floor. Mika didn’t look to see if any of their friends were following; she was too busy trying to keep up with Elena as she weaved her way into the crowd. She liked the song that was playing, but she couldn’t remember the name of it. All she really cared about was sticking with her friend and moving to the beat. At various points in the night, she spotted Alexei, Jonas, and Maria. Nicolae remained absent, but he usually was trying to chat up girls at the bar.

When they collapsed hours later back in the booth, Mika knew that she was spent for the night. The rest of her friends, however, seemed to be maintaining their level. In fact, Nicolae suggested they go round to a different pub, one that promised free snacks with the purchase of drinks past one o’clock in the morning. Her friends were all for it, but Mika decided against it. She was utterly exhausted. And drunk. And had a snack already waiting for her at home. 

“You’re being a spoil sport!” Elena yelled over the pounding music. Mika shrugged her shoulders; Elena could complain all she wanted, but she was done.

“I’m going to go close my tab. I’ll meet you out front.” she replied, turning towards the bar before Elena could respond. The people on the dance floor were still going strong, periodically bumping into her as she stumbled to the bar. The bartender was busy on the other end, so she perched herself near the cash register and stared, hoping that would be enough to get her attention. 

“Going for another round?” a voice said close to her ear. Mika whipped around, her hair hitting the man in the face. He blinked it away, but otherwise seemed unphased.

“Closing the tab.” she said, giving him a polite smile and turning back. The bartender made eye contact with her, and she waved.

“Shame, I was going to offer to buy one for you.” he said. Mika turned back around to find his eyes were very focused on her. Or maybe she felt like he was focusing really hard because she was focusing really hard.

“That’s okay, I’ve really had enough. Thank you though.” she said, hoping the conversation would end there. She looked past the guy, but Elena was nowhere in sight. She must have already been outside. 

“Come on. Just one more drink. What could it hurt?” he said, giving what he thought was a charming smile. Warning bells were going off in Mika’s head, but luckily she was saved from replying by the bartender coming up to them. Mika gladly turned her attention to her, thinking that would get the guy to leave her alone. She lamented the volume of the music then, as she had no choice but to yell her name to the bartender to close the tab out.

“My friend Mika here will have one more - what, rum and cola? Vodka tonic?” he asked, directing his question to the two of them. Mika and the bartender looked to each other, and Mika thought she sped up the checkout process a little bit. Mika didn’t even look at the receipt, scribbling over the line and handing the girl twenty leu with it.

“Thank you!” she squeaked, turning and practically running into the crowd. She didn’t know if the guy followed her - she hoped not. 

Outside, her friends were waiting for her. “Took you long enough.” Jonas said, his arm lazily around Maria’s shoulders. 

“It’s still busy in there.” she answered. “You’re off then?”

“Yea, down round that way.” Nicolae said, gesturing in the direction away from her apartment.

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Elena asked. Mika nodded emphatically, which was not her best idea given her current state. 

“I’m sure. It’s time for this old lady to head to bed. You youths have fun.” she said. 

“Do you want us to walk you?” Nicolae asked. Mika shook her head.

“It’s a quick walk. I’ll be home in no time.” she said, pulling away from the group. Her feet were hurting, and her stomach was grumbling. It was time to head back.

“Text me, yea?” Elena said. Mika nodded, blowing a kiss to the group before turning and striding away. She made it about a half a block before she stopped, pulling off her heels. She’d rather take on the sidewalk barefoot than deal with the offending shoes any longer. 

It was quiet in front of her building, which made her happy. The last thing she needed right now was to run into the chatty girl from downstairs, or the little old man who told the same stories every time she saw him. She reached into her purse, feeling around for the key fob to let her into the building. She was met with nothing but leather. 

She swore loudly, pulling the purse wide open. Sure enough, no keys in sight. She hoped against hope that it was the light playing a trick on her, sitting down on the front steps and emptied the bag. Out fell her wallet, her phone, a stray tampon, and the receipt from the club. The purse held nothing else. She swore loudly again, climbing her way to her feet and looking at the call buttons. She rang for the landlord, but the board didn’t make a sound. She rang her own apartment, which made a low buzz noise. She cursed the landlord, wondering why he disconnected it from his apartment when there were tenants that needed his help.

“Locked out?” someone asked. Mika stopped cold. Surely not. She turned slowly, and lo and behold, there was the guy from the bar.

“No, just...waiting on a friend.” she lied quickly. He smirked.

“I don’t think you are.” he said. “No need to be defensive, I’m just trying to help.”

“I’m fine, really.” she said. He took one step up towards the building. There were now only three stairs between them.

“If you need a place to stay, I live just around the corner.” he said, taking another step up. She stepped back, and felt the doorway touch her hands. She swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth. She’d heard of people sobering up in these situations, but that was not the case here. The alcohol and adrenaline made everything slow and fuzzy

“That’s very generous of you, but I’m okay. Really.” she answered. He took another step up.

“You turn me down at the bar, and now you turn me down here. How do you ever expect to make friends?” he asked.

“I have plenty of friends, thank you.” she said. One more step.

“Well then, why not one more? Come on. We can get something to eat. I’ll even let you take the bed.” he said, extending his hand to her. She kept hers by her sides, grasping at her skirt. Though he hadn’t done anything explicitly dangerous, she did not like this. At all.

“I said no thank you.” She attempted to say it sternly, but it came out a whisper. He grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her down the steps. She pushed against him, breaking free for a moment. But she didn’t think to run away. Instead, she tried to run back into her locked building. Before she knew it, his arms were around her waist, pulling her away from the door. 

“It’s for your own good.” he said. She struggled as much as she could, grabbing and flailing and scratching. She remembered reading that screaming may deter something like this - that the attention might make them stop. But her voice stuck in her throat. Her heart was racing in her panic, and she couldn’t exactly think of what to do, but she just kept trying to get away.

Suddenly, she was free. She turned to see the guy still there, and didn’t understand why he had let go. In fact, he tried to grab her wrist again, but he was pushed away by someone. Mika lost her balance, toppling backwards and landing on the steps. Her head bounced against the concrete, making her vision swim. She finally realized who had stopped the guy - the quiet neighbor stood between her and him, defending her. The guy tried to swing at the neighbor, who dodged it easily. He sent out a punch of his own, which flattened the guy on the sidewalk. He didn’t move. 

Neighbor turned back to her, and tried to help her sit up. She felt like a rag doll. He was speaking to her, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. She didn’t want to move. After a moment, dizziness overwhelmed her, and as the world started fading, she wondered if the concussion or the drinks that were making her hallucinate his apparently metal arm.


	2. Surprises

It was all luck, really.

Bucky moved to Bucharest because it was one place he’d actually never been. At least, he couldn’t remember ever being there before. He wasn’t a stranger to Romania - he remembered the coast line, and the Ukrainian border, and a town on the southwest side that was so small it didn’t register on maps. But he’d been able to avoid Bucharest, until now.

He had every intention to be a ghost in this town. He got a job working nights in the warehouse district, working for a guy that paid in cash. His lease was under an assumed name, and required minimal documentation for approval. From what he could tell, a lot of foreigners lived in this building. It was small and clean, and gave him ample escape routes in the case of his identity coming to light. He chose the top floor on purpose. 

But back to his luck. Bucky had never considered himself much of a lucky person, he remembered that much. He remembered his parents dying, he remembered having no choice but to turn to the military. And he also remembered Steve.

Steve confused him. Steve was part of his memory that Johann tried to eradicate completely. But it turned out that the human brain was an incredible machine that really did not like being attacked, it did anything it could to heal and protect itself. His past life was coming back to him in bits and pieces; they were flashes of a person that he didn’t quite recognize anymore. He knew Steve was  _ good _ , he knew he  _ used to be _ good. But any memory he had of his life with Steve was drowned out by blood and death and other things he wanted to forget. 

So he moved to Bucharest, so that he and everything about him could slowly fade and disappear.

He’d had no intentions of making contact with anyone around him. His boss didn’t care what he did as long as he showed up on time, and his coworkers were the same type as him - the type to keep to themselves. The shopkeepers around town never gave him a second glance. The land lord only wanted his money on the first of the month. 

The only one who stood out was his neighbor. Of course he kept a close eye on her, considering she lived right across the hall from him. She must have worked odd hours too, considering how often he ran into her in the hallway. She seemed nice enough, but he’d known a lot of people who’d “seemed nice enough” on the surface. Although he hadn’t met any assassins who left cake at the front door as a calling card.

No, the neighbor girl was the only one who noticed him. And so he noticed her. He had no intentions of talking to her, but found himself making (very) short pleasantries in the hallway. He reckoned it was a remnant of the man he used to be. 

But back to the point. It was lucky that he came home when he did, as he was supposed to be off from work an hour earlier. And it was lucky that he decided to save his grocery shopping for the morning, instead of going in the middle of the night as planned. 

He’d heard the scuffle before he saw it, and figured it was just another late night bar brawl after too many drinks. But when he rounded the corner and saw them on the stoop, it became very apparent that something much worse was occurring. The words “damsel in distress” flitted across his mind, a phrase from long ago. It didn’t sit well with him; it didn’t seem to match the situation. 

The assailant was taken care of easily enough. He was one of the least skilled opponents Bucky had come across. What he wasn’t prepared for was the unconscious neighbor girl on the steps. He checked her pulse and her breathing, and found both to be normal. He’d heard her head crack against the cement, and figured that was the reason for her current state. He left the other man sprawled on the ground, also unconscious. The word  _ jackass _ crossed his mind, and that one felt right. Without a second thought, he pulled the neighbor girl over his shoulder, scanning his key fob to open the front door to their building. She was heavier than he anticipated, with more muscle density than he originally thought. But it was not difficult to carry her up the stairs.

Right before he reached her door, she began to stir. She tried to fight against him, but her movements were slow and uncoordinated. He could smell the alcohol on her as he set her on her feet. She was less than steady, swaying slightly as she tried to focus on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She looked like she wanted to say something, but lost consciousness before she could get it out. He caught her before she hit the ground this time, and lowered her slowly to the floor so she would be safe while he picked her lock. 

She was still unconscious as he laid her on the couch. Again, memories of another time were tickling the back of his mind. He took off her shoes and made sure the skirt of her dress was keeping her covered.  _ Modesty _ was the word to come to mind this time, though it sounded almost humorous at this point. Her breaths were shallow, her face scrunched in subconscious pain. He felt something stir in him, something that used to be quite prevalent in his personality - the desire to help someone. But he didn’t know what words to say, or what to do. In fact, his main objective at this point was to leave before she awoke again. He silently strode towards the door, intent on leaving her. She was safe in her apartment. She would be fine.

_ Drink your tea, dear. It’ll help your stomach feel better. _ A voice echoed in his mind. He couldn’t remember who said it to him. He stopped at the door, turning back. The neighbor girl had not moved. His training told him to leave, but the voice at the back of his mind had other ideas.

He turned the faucet to hot and lit the stove. He stared at the pantry for a moment, trying to decipher her organization system (there was none) before looking at the place where she would most likely keep tea. There were three different boxes of black tea, but that was not what he wanted. He sniffed the pantry, digging to the back to pull out a tattered box of peppermint. He removed one bag, tossing it on the counter. He filled the kettle with the now steaming water, placing it on the hot stove. He paused for a moment, waiting for the voice to tell him what came next. He knew the tea had something else in it, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what. 

He opened door after door in her kitchen, staring at the contents and willing them to show what he needed. The clock in the back of his mind was ticking - it wouldn’t be long now before she woke up. He needed to finish this and leave. He pulled the kettle from the stove before it could sing, turning the gas off. He found a mug in the cupboard, and put the tea bag in it before pouring hot water over it. He considered leaving things as they were, his training sending off alarms in his head. This was taking too long. 

But he was tired of listening to his training. So he stood, and he breathed, and he tried to remember.

_ The honey is for the sickness. Did you know honey is a natural medicine? The nutmeg just makes you feel better. _

Honey and nutmeg. He located them easily enough, and his hands seemed to remember the quantities needed, even if his brain did not. He was just stirring the contents together when he heard her shift on the couch. He stood still, weighing the different outcomes of this scenario. This was the closest he’d gotten to a panic in a long time.

He heard the sound of something hitting the floor, so he turned to look at her. She was sitting up now, looking confused and slightly sick. He tried to think of what a normal person would say in this situation.

“I’m sorry.” is what he settled on. An odd choice, really, considering he had not spent the last few decades feeling very apologetic. Various questions passed through his mind -  _ how are you feeling? Are you okay? Are you hurt? -  _ but none of them felt right. He took the mug to her, setting it down on the coffee table, deciding silence was his best course of action. He made sure to maintain a respectable distance between the two of them. 

“No need to apologize, not after you helped me.” she said. Her eyes were unfocused, her pupils enlarged. She was concussed. She didn’t heed her symptoms, choosing to stare at the bright screen of her phone. “I should be thanking you. You saved me.”

He knew  _ thank you _ was a proper response from her in this situation, but he was not prepared for how calm she was, and how casual. It occurred to him that she didn’t know who he was - who he used to be. 

“Don’t mention it. I’m glad you’re alright.” he said stiffly. Training was kicking in again. He needed to leave. He figured that was a good place to end their conversation, and turned towards the door. 

“No, wait!” she said. He stopped and turned to her. He was not expecting this from her. He waited for what he assumed was coming next -  _ are you the guy from the TV? The one who tried to kill Captain America? _ “Stay, for a minute? If you don’t mind? My friend is on her way, but I really don’t want to be alone right now.” 

The request was the biggest surprise of the night. He tried to pull himself to the man he was before The War, before The Fall. She was trying to put up a brave face, but her eyes betrayed how afraid she was. “Sure.” he said. Every part of him was telling him to leave, but he pushed the feelings down, instead taking a seat at her dining table. 

“What’s your name?” she asked. She thought it was a simple question. Bucky hesitated, running through his list of options. The museum had told him his name was James Buchanan Barnes, but that didn’t feel right. But he didn’t think she would respond well to him introducing himself as  _ Soldier _ .

“Bucky.” he said, finally settling. It still didn’t feel right, but it was the name Steve gave him, and the best option he had. 

“I’m Mika.” she said. The name fit her very well. “Is there nutmeg in this?”

_ And honey _ , he thought, wondering about the voice in his head. He decided to keep that to himself. “To help with the hangover.” 

“I don’t get hangovers.” she replied, looking quite proud of herself. He perked an eyebrow - he didn’t remember much from his past life, but he remembered hangovers. Given how much she seemed to have had tonight, he was surprised she wasn’t vomiting. 

“If you say so.” he responded. She settled further into the couch, crossing her legs underneath her. She held her cup of tea as if it were her last source of warmth. She suddenly seemed very small, and fragile. Bucky kept that thought to himself as well. Even though he had barely communicated, he still felt like he was giving too much away.

“It’s very good. Thank you.” she said. He wanted to say  _ you’re welcome,  _ but held his tongue. He simply gave her a nod. Her fingers danced around the cup; it was clear she was nervous.  _ She should be nervous, _ he thought to himself. Even if she didn’t seem to know who he was. “Hopefully it’ll help me sober up a little bit. Or help with the bump on the head. For a second down there I think I started seeing things - like, your arm looked like it was made of metal. How insane is that? This is why I don’t go out as often as my friends. Weird things happen.” she rambled. Bucky was surprised for a second time. His training told him to stay silent, to not divulge his secrets. He decided to ignore that.

“You weren’t seeing things.” he told her. He made no other move, but rejoiced in his small rebellion.

“What?” she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion. Bucky hesitated. He had spent the last seventy years meticulously planning everything, but he had not accounted for this. He no longer had strategy for civilian life. 

It felt like an hour before he made up his mind, slowly pulling off his glove. The metal was cool against his fingertips as he rolled up his sleeve. Her jaw actually dropped, her eyes wide in surprise. He didn’t think he’d be nervous about her reaction, but he found his heart rate elevating. He gripped his knees, the metal plates shifting with the action. “Holy  _ shit _ !” she said. She didn’t look scared. In fact, she looked...intrigued? The corner of his mouth tilted up in a grin, an involuntary action. It was one of few smiles over the past few decades. Before he could say anything, her door burst open. Another girl stumbled in, looking slightly dishevelled. This must be the friend she was talking about. He immediately covered his arm again, pulling on the glove. The warning bells in his mind were screaming now. There were too many variables in this situation. Time to retreat. 

The girls were talking, enraptured in their conversation. Now was the perfect time. He silently stood, crossing the space to the door in long strides. 

“Wait, is this the situation?” the new woman asked. Bucky paused, their eyes on him. It made his muscles ache to hold himself back from knocking them out. The roots of his training ran deep.

“No, no. I’ll tell you about it in a minute.” Mika saved him, distracting the other girl. She looked to him. “Thank you again.” she said, clearly giving him a way out. Bucky wanted to sprint out the door, but tried to think of a pleasantry to exchange first.

“Hope you feel better.” he said. It was the only thing he could come up with. He didn’t wait for her to respond, slipping out of her apartment and closing the door behind him. His body felt tingly and uncomfortable. He had not been prepared for any of that, and was not used to situations that he couldn’t punch his way out of. He went back to his apartment, locking the three locks behind him. He stood there for a long time, trying to process what had just happened. After a while, he pulled off his layers, stripping down to a tshirt and his jeans. He eyed the light switch, but lit a candle, sitting on the floor in an effort to feel grounded. 

He was having a difficult time adjusting to civilian life, even when he was able to avoid interaction with most people. But tonight was the first time he was able to see himself living outside of the assassin life, the first time it even seemed possible. He pulled his backpack to him, finding his notebook and pen inside it. The front page stared at him, asking him to write who the journal belonged to. He held the pen for a long time before carefully writing  _ Bucky _ in blocky letters. He turned to the first page; it was clean and blank, waiting for him to decide what to add.

_ Honey is a natural medicine. Put in peppermint tea with nutmeg to help with head and stomach aches. _

He tried to think of anything else that had come to him today. His time as the Soldier was still in his mind; the memories were dark and painful. He pushed them down, trying to lock them away so deep that he could forget them. He tried to think back to before, tried to hear the voice in the back of his head again. But nothing else came to him. He was left with a glaringly empty void where his memories should have been. With a frustrated sigh, he closed the journal and tossed it to the side. The panels of his arm slid into place as he balled his hand into a fist. He wanted to punch something, but knew he would easily break through the wall. He stared at his arm, angry at it. He wished he knew how to take it off. He was tired of looking at it. Tired of feeling it.

He couldn’t punch the wall. Two led to the outside - the holes would compromise the security measures he had taken. One led to the hallway; he didn’t need people to see into his apartment. The other shared with Mika’s apartment. She didn’t need that. He settled for grabbing the pillow off his mattress, holding it to his face until he felt like he was suffocating and then screaming. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing. He screamed until he was out of breath, until his vision was swimming from the lack of oxygen. Only then did he blow out the candle and curl up in the sleeping bag, attempting to get some sleep. 

Bucky woke up to the sound of the door across the hall closing and footsteps traveling down the stairs. He checked the time; it was shortly after six o’clock. He sat up, staring at the wall for a long time as he tried to piece himself together for the day. 

_ My name is Bucky. I live in Bucharest. I work in the warehouse district. Today, I need to go to the grocery store. At the grocery store, I need to buy… _

He went through the list in his head, noting everything he would need. But when he finished, it didn’t feel real, so he started through the whole thing again.  _ My name is Bucky. I live in Bucharest… _

He went through it over and over, trying to solidify it in his mind. Other thoughts kept trying to intrude, but he pushed past them. When he was satisfied with how natural it felt, he got up, pulling on his sweatshirt and boots. He took the baseball cap off the counter, slipping it over his head. He was just pulling his gloves on when he heard someone walking up the stairwell, breathing hard. He silently moved to the door, watching through the peep hole as Mika stood at the top of the stairs. She looked like she had just been running, which surprised him. He figured she would have slept in today. His training told him to wait until she was in her apartment; with determination, he ignored it. He grabbed his bag, opening his door as she was going to unlock hers. She didn’t turn - she hadn’t heard him. He gently touched her shoulder, causing her to whirl around, surprise and fear painted on her face. That was an expression he expected. 

She pulled buds out of her ears. He vaguely recognized them, something in his mind telling him that they were for music. “You scared me.” she said, leaning against her wall. 

“I’m sorry.” he said. For once, it was not his goal to instill fear in someone.

“No, you’re fine, you’re good. I was just stuck in my own little world.” she said. She held up the buds. He could hear music echoing from them, but it was not a song he recognized. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. This seemed like a proper conversation starter.

“Um, been better. But the tea really helped, thank you.” she said after a moment. She was nervously fidgeting with the ear buds. But she didn’t seem to be afraid of  _ him _ exactly. “I really can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t come along, I...I don’t know what would have happened.”

“You’re welcome.” he said. Yesterday he’d said  _ don’t mention it _ , but that hadn’t felt right. This response felt better.

“I really want to repay you, in some way. Maybe I can make you dinner sometime? Or-” she seemed to change her mind mid-sentence. “Or maybe take you out somewhere? I know all the best food places around here.” 

“It’s okay.” he said. He heard someone moving downstairs, and carefully moved his eyes away from her and to the stairs. It was just the paper boy, dropping off the newspaper to the resident three floors below them.

“No, no, I insist. How about…” she paused, opening her door and looking into her apartment. He wondered what she was looking at. “How about breakfast? Have you eaten yet?”

Bucky was surprised again. He had assumed their relationship would be one of cordial acquaintances. He did not expect her to reach out in any way. Once again, his training was pulling him away from the interaction. “I haven’t.” he said, choosing to be honest instead of lie and retreat.

“Excellent. I know this great little cafe around the corner. You’re gonna love it.” she said. That sent alarm bells off in his head. He was happy enough just telling her the truth, he wasn’t ready for prolonged time together. However, she cut him off before he could weasel his way out of it. “I’m gonna change real quick. Don’t move, okay? Stay right here. Don’t leave.”

“Okay.” he said. He planned to immediately leave once she was out of view.

“You look like you’re gonna walk away as soon as I move out of eye sight. Don’t do it.” she said. He worked to keep the shocked look off his face. Maybe she was one of those mind readers? 

He held up his hands, showing that he would actually listen to her. The muscles in his legs were wired, ready to run away. He clenched his fists to distract himself. Mika walked backwards into her apartment, keeping her eye on him. She moved around the door, but jumped back into view, checking to see if he was still there. He willed every muscle in his body not to move. She gave him a look that would have been comical if he wasn’t having a small internal crisis, ducking back into her apartment. He stood in the exact same spot, fighting every urge to run. If he let any part of him move, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from escaping.

She came jogging back into view, her clothes changed and her hair rearranged. He still wasn’t used to how quickly women could change their hair in this time. She had her phone in her hand, as well as a purse. He watched her hand flick the lock on the inside of the doorknob, but didn’t hear any jingling in her purse. He stuck his foot in the door, preventing it from closing all the way.

“What?” she asked. Again, she looked startled. He deflated a bit.

“Keys.” he said softly. His heart hurt. He was tired of people looking at him in fear.

“Right. Thank you.” she said after a moment, turning back and grabbing the keys off her kitchen counter. He took a deep breath, willing himself to act normal. Just normal Bucky. Not the Soldier. 

They were silent as they walked down the stairs. Every step he took felt like going further and further away from home base. These were uncharted waters. Meanwhile, Mika seemed perfectly at ease. Wisps around her face danced in the light breeze, the early morning sun making her skin glow. He could see shadows under her eyes, and wondered how much she slept the night before. She turned, giving him a smile before leading him into the small shop. 

His senses were bombarded as soon as they entered. The air was thick with the smell of sugar and yeast, the sharp coffee scent cutting through periodically. Brightly colored pastries blinded him. Mika looked like she was in heaven, surrounded by her sweet treats and sweet people. She admired the cinnamon buns coming out of the oven, immediately requesting one with a cappuccino. He turned away, trying to ignore the stares of her and the cafe owner as he looked at the few savory options. The sugar was suffocating him. He pointed to a pastry that he thought originated in Georgia, adding a coffee to his order. He remembered liking coffee, though he couldn’t remember what it tasted like. 

“You’re not going to get a cinnamon bun? Look how beautiful they are!” Mika admonished him. He shrugged.

“Not big on sweets.” he responded. He felt like his throat was coated in sugar.

“Not big on sweets?!” she exclaimed. She seemed offended, while the cafe owner seemed confused. She complimented his choice, trying to play peace keeper. Bucky shrugged again, not knowing how else to respond. Mika shook her head, handing a bill to the other woman before leading them outside. This eased the tension between his shoulders a bit. If they were outside, they could make a quick getaway. He sat with his back to the cafe wall, keeping the street in view. There were still very few people out, which made surveillance easier. 

“Wait,” she said as they sat, her face looking like she had just solved a mystery. “if you don’t like sweets, what did you do with the cake I left you?”

“So that was you?” Bucky asked. He was almost sure it had been her, but this confirmed it. 

“Who else would leave cake except for a new neighbor?” she asked. The idea seemed familiar, and he thought perhaps in his previous life bringing cake to a neighbor was a common practice. He held onto the thought, hoping he could remember it to write down later.

“Would you eat cake that a stranger left at your front door?” he asked, finally picking up the cup of coffee and taking a sip. The bitter warmth soaked into him, a delightfully familiar feeling. Whatever he thought it tasted like, this was better. 

“Honestly, probably.” Mika said nonchalantly. He was alarmed internally, but kept his face stoic. He took a quick glance around, just in case anything gave him away. “But back to the bigger problem at hand. Not any sweets? Ever?”

He didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate something sweet. “I think I used to. They just aren’t appealing anymore.” he said finally. 

“We’ll find one.” she said definitively, picking up her breakfast and peeling off a bite. He looked at her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was serious. Her statement implied that she wanted to spend more time with him, but he couldn’t imagine that. Perhaps she was just being polite? She must just be polite. He decided to change the topic. He ran through various questions in his head, but all of them seemed too personal. He didn’t want to have to answer them in turn.

“How long have you lived in Bucharest?” he asked. A good, safe question.

“Almost four years now. I moved here for work. Of course, then the company I work for went global and allows me to work from home whenever I want. How about you?” she said, finally moving on from her food to her coffee.

“I’d never been here before. Needed a change of scenery.” he said. It didn’t exactly answer her question, but he assumed that she would fill in the blanks. 

“Bold move. Where are you from? England? Canada?” she followed up. This startled him more than anything so far. He ran through their past interactions, but couldn’t think of a time that he gave anything away. He had never spoken to her in English, only Romanian. And he spoke perfect Romanian.

“What makes you think I’m not from here?” he asked quietly. His heart was hammering. He must have made a mistake. And mistakes meant consequences. He took another gulp of coffee, the heat serving to calm him a bit. 

“The Force is strong with me.” she said. Her tone made it obvious that she was referencing something, but he had no idea what it was. She waited for him to react, sighing when he didn’t. “ _ Star Wars _ ? No?”

He had heard of the Star Wars. “Never seen it.” he said, shrugging casually even though he was still halfway into panic mode on the inside. He still wanted to know what mistake he made.

“Reference wasted then. We’ll fix that someday. Anyway, it’s cause your accent is very proper. I see that a lot in native English speakers that know multiple languages.” she said casually. He didn’t detect any tells; she seemed to be telling the truth. He was still on edge. He went to take another gulp of coffee, but was disappointed to find the cup empty.

“America. New York.” he said finally. The museum told him that he was from Brooklyn, just like Steve.

“Oh I  _ love  _ New York!” she said. He was surprised, not expecting her to have been to America at all. The surprise helped distract him from the low level panic. “I went there on holiday, once, when I was at university. Everything was so bright and loud and busy, it was amazing. Do you go back often?”

“No.” he said shortly. If he never went back to New York, it would be too soon. Her smile fell, and she looked down at the cup of coffee in her hands. He felt a stir of something in his chest, something he had not experienced in a long time. Remorse? Embarrassment? He couldn’t tell. Either way, he did not like the face she was making, as if someone had taken her cinnamon bun before she could eat it.

“Well you’ll find things a lot quieter here. The food is just as good, though. And the people much nicer.” she said, giving him a small smile. He wondered what she was thinking. She seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve, which made her either tremendously transparent or the best actress he’d ever encountered. Either way, he was on edge. 

She put her cup down, grabbing her purse. “Anyway, thank you again, for last night. And thank you for joining me for breakfast. I know you probably have things to do today so-”

“You haven’t finished your coffee.” he interrupted. He realized how straight he was sitting, how it probably seemed like he did not like what was going on. Even though trying to wade through conversation and emotion like a normal person was immensely stressful, he didn’t want it to end. This episode seemed so incredibly and perfectly  _ normal _ . He wanted to hold on to it.

“It’s fine, I can always make more at home. I don’t want to keep you from the rest of your morning.” she said. She didn’t look nervous, as he expected. She looked...disappointed? Chagrined?

The boy from the cafe came out then, pouring more coffee into his cup. He gave him a polite smile, but also wondered if  _ he _ was a mind reader too. 

“But now I haven’t finished mine either.” he said. He took another sip, feeling the closest thing to happiness that he’d felt since Before.

“Well, we can’t have that.” she said. She seemed alright with the turn in events. He nodded, taking another cursory glance of the street. There was a woman sitting on the curb that hadn’t been there before, but she was smoking a cigarette while staring at her phone. Low level threat. He turned back to Mika.

“Are you feeling better? After last night?” he asked. Halfway through the question, he realized he had already asked her earlier if she was feeling better, but it was too late to stop.

“A little bit of a headache, a little sore, but nothing terrible. I told you, I don’t get hangovers.” she said, tossing her hair dramatically.

He felt something in his chest, almost like a laugh was building. The feeling wasn’t familiar to him anymore. He gave her a ghost of a grin. “Or maybe it was the tea.” he said.

“Agree to disagree. I tried to recreate it, later. But it didn’t work.” she said. She had a look on her face like she was trying to solve a complicated math problem.

He had a moment, where he almost felt like the man he used to be. “You were missing the magic touch.” he said, moving his prosthetic fingers. He looked at her from under the bill of his baseball cap. Her face was blank for a moment before breaking into a wide smile.

“Was that...a joke?” she asked. Bucky felt oddly satisfied with himself. “Be still my heart.”

“They are few and far between, but I’ve still got some.” he said. The moment had passed. He was glad they could be distracted by her phone going off in her purse. She silenced it quickly.

“Did you need to get that?” he asked, taking a drink of his coffee. The cup was empty again.

“No, it’s just Elena. She’s probably just wondering where I am.” she said. The phone was buzzing again, but she silenced it.

“If your friend is concerned, you should answer.” he said. He was quickly reaching his limit of social ability. More people were out on the streets. He wanted to get his groceries and get back to the apartment.

“She’s just dramatic.” Mika replied. The phone buzzed again.

“Well, we’ve both finished our coffee. And it looks like your friend really wants to talk to you.” he said. His muscles were starting to tingle again. He enjoyed this time feeling almost like a person, but he was reaching his end.

“Yes, well, thank you, again. For last night. You are literally a life saver.” she said. She looked very sincere. The phone continued to buzz, try as she might to silence it.

“I’m happy to see you’re feeling better. I’ll see you around.” he said, taking the lead and standing up. She looked down, going to find something in her purse. He took the opportunity, turning and walking towards the corner store. More people were around, and he didn’t like it. He heard her start to say something else, but he was too far away to understand what she was saying. 

He ducked into the store, keeping his eyes low as he wandered through the aisles. He felt a tinge of  _ something _ as he thought about just leaving Mika out there with minimal goodbyes, but that feeling was far outweighed by his relief at the silence. Even if Mika was the most genuinelly nice person he’d met since 1945, he was still learning how to be a person again. It would take time before he had all his pieces back together, before he could be an actual friend to her. 

He paid for his groceries, giving the clerk a small, polite smile. It came easier now, easier than it did before.

One piece back in its place.


	3. Middle of the Night

Nightmares were not a common occurrence for Mika. She prided herself on her ability to sleep through the end of the world, a skill that was not shared with most people. But every night since she had the run in with That Guy, she found herself unable to stay asleep at night. It started with the early wake up the morning after, with her nights getting shorter and shorter as the days passed. She tried to use the time to be productive, deciding that this would be a week when she worked from home. Her boss emailed her halfway through the week, questioning why she was clocking in before five in the morning. She simply responded that she was trying something new, and left it at that. She was not close enough to her boss to tell him that she kept waking up in a cold sweat, with her heart hammering a million beats a minute. 

After a week of barely sleeping, Mika was desperate to get some rest. She was exhausted as she laid down, her body aching with the fatigue from the week. She eyed the bottle of sleeping pills Elena bought her, but didn’t reach for them. She didn’t like how loopy they made her feel the next day. She turned over with a sigh, trying her best to get comfortable. After a while, she was finally able to drift to sleep. 

Her night was dreamless at first, but then she found herself in a forest. It was dark, the trees towering over her like sentinels in the night. She knew she was lost, but she had no idea where she was trying to go. She also had the impending sense that something was chasing her. No,  _ hunting _ her. 

She tried to run. She could feel her muscles straining, feel her heart pounding. It was like she was trying to move through mud, and breathe under water. No matter how she pushed herself, she kept moving slowly. Branches from the trees reached out, wrapping around her arms and legs and waist and holding her back from escaping. Whoever was hunting her was getting closer; the back of her neck tingled with the feeling of being watched. Her eyes darted around her, but nothing but darkness stared back at her. Her focus was on reaching the tree line. If she could make it out of the trees, she would be safe. If she could make it out of the woods, she’d live. 

The trees held on tighter. The air became thicker. She felt like she was suffocating or drowning  or something. Her throat was closing. Her muscles were giving out. Her bones were breaking. She could hear footsteps behind her, moving unhindered through the brush. She pushed harder, trying to survive. The footsteps got closer. She could hear whoever it was breathing, feel as they materialized behind her. Sharp pains stung her shoulder as talons dug in, warm blood trickling down her arm.

She woke up with a choked scream, sitting straight up in her bed and taking in large gulps of air. She knew it was a dream, but it had been so  _ intense _ . She couldn’t remember the last time a dream felt that real to her, or lingered that vividly afterwards. She checked her shoulder, but the skin remained unbroken. She rubbed the back of her arm, trying to rid herself of the tingles still echoing from blood dripping down the back. The clock next to her read half past two in the morning, the angry red letters glaring at her from the nightstand. She let out a loud, frustrated groan, the sound amplified in her quiet apartment. She flopped back down on her bed, trying to get comfortable once again. She couldn’t stay in a position for more than a moment, every attempt feeling wrong and uncomfortable. She gave up about a minute and a half later, throwing her pillow across the room and letting out another angry scream. The sound the pillow made as it hit the wall was much louder than she anticipated, which made her heart jolt and her breath hitch.

She looked back at her night stand, eyeing the bottle of sleeping pills. Maybe they wouldn’t be so bad this time. Tomorrow was Friday, maybe she could just sleep in really late and they wouldn’t put her on her ass for a whole day like last time. She picked up the bottle, the pills clicking against the side of it as she read the label. If she really had to, she could just work late. It would give her an excuse not to go out with her friends. The bottle promised gentle, non-habit-forming sleep, given she had eight uninterrupted hours available. Did she have eight uninterrupted hours available? She wasn’t sure. She took a deep breath, putting the bottle back on her night stand and getting up from her bed. She didn’t care what time it was, she decided she needed to exercise. She would just exhaust herself, then surely sleep would come.

She put on her brightest shirt and leggings, not wanting to hide in the dark from any drivers on the road. She picked up her headphones, but tossed them back down on the floor. She was being irresponsible enough going for a run this late at night, she didn’t need to close herself off from her surroundings. Her shoes were by the door where she’d left them, ready and waiting. She slipped them on, grabbing her key and fob before walking out the door. 

Mika tried to be quiet as she walked down the stairs, not wanting to wake up any of her neighbors. The walls were known to be quite thin, and the tall staircase carried sound rather well. Without warning, someone dropped down in front of her, landing surprisingly softly. She didn’t bother looking, just screamed and sent her hand out in a punch. She felt her hand connect, but was unable to follow through with the motion. There stood Bucky, cool as a cucumber, holding her fist with his prosthetic hand. His face looked almost impressed.

“Not bad.” he said. 

“What the  _ shit _ , Bucky?” she said, taking her hand back. It suddenly occurred to her that it hurt from connecting with his prosthesis. She let out a noise of pain, shaking it.

“You’re angry.” he said, looking confused. She didn’t look at him, instead analyzing her knuckles for any signs of permanent damage. There were none.

“You know, you can’t just drop down in front of people. It’s fucking terrifying.” she said, finally looking back at him.

His eyebrows shot up. She didn’t know if he was shocked at her language or her statement. “I’m sorry.” he said softly. He looked like he was in more pain than she was. She took a deep breath, calming her racing heart.

“I’m sorry for snapping.” she said. She wanted to tell him  _ it’s okay, it happens _ , but her hand was still hurting and she still felt a little salty about it. He stared at her, as if trying to read her mind. She felt her anger starting to simmer again, the lack of sleep and frustration building up.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He still spoke in the same soft tone in which he apologized, his eyes showing his concern. Mika’s anger dissipated. Sadly enough, he was the first one to ask that in the past few days, and look like he actually meant it. 

“Not really.” she said. It was the first time in the past week she’d answered the question honestly. She thought Bucky would know if she was lying. She felt the tingle of tears behind her eyes, but blinked them away. She kept talking, trying to distract herself from the emotions her fatigue made her feel. “I haven’t been sleeping well. I think it’s starting to take a toll on me. I was just gonna go for a run, see if it could clear my head. Maybe make me tired enough to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the night.” he pointed out. “It’s not safe.”

“Yea, well, I don’t really have other options. Found out the hard way that the gym doesn’t open until four-thirty.” she said. There was a little more bite to her tone than she meant to have. 

He stared at her, as if weighing his options. “I’ll go with you.” he said finally.

“That’s okay, you need to get to sleep yourself.” she said. Her mood swung from being frustrated to feeling guilty. She probably woke him. “I’ll be fine.”

“I was up. I could use a run.” he said. He didn’t show any sign of lying.

“You’re wearing boots and jeans. You can’t go for a run in that.” she replied, gesturing to his outfit. He shrugged again.

“Could be worse.” he said, turning and starting to walk down the stairs. “Let’s go.”

“You know, I’ve run in the middle of the night before on my own and everything was fine.” she felt the need to tell him. After living by herself for four years, it was weird to have someone bring up her less than safe habits. It made her feel defensive. She wanted him to know that she could, in fact, take care of herself, given she had all her faculties.

“I’m sure.” he answered, not even turning to look at her. She stuck her tongue out at the back of his head, following behind him down the stairs. She felt a little nervous all of the sudden, and wondered exactly how relaxing this run was going to be. 

The air was cool as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. There was no one out on the street, which Mika was happy about. The night was clear, so they had light from both the street lamps and the moon to give them comfort. Mika relished in the quiet of the night; it was soothing compared to the whirlwind going on inside her head.

“How far do you want to go?” she asked him, shaking her legs out to warm them up a little bit. Normally she would stretch a little bit before she ran, but she felt self conscious with Bucky just standing there, waiting for her.

“However far you want.” he replied. She perked an eyebrow. In the two months he’d been living there, she’d never once seen him exercise.

“Do you think you can keep up with me?” she questioned. He gave her a sarcastic grin, and actually let out a breath that could almost be considered a short chuckle.

“I know I can.” he said shortly. He said it with such certainty that she faltered for a moment, but her competitive nature took over.

“Fine. You know the old library, about five kilometers from here?” she asked. “Let’s see who gets there and back first.”

“The point of me running with you was to stay with you and make sure you’re safe.” he said, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. 

“C’mon, Bucky, where’s your competitive spirit? Afraid you’re going to get beaten by a woman?” she asked, trying to goad him.

“Not at all. I’m certain I would win, unless you’re very good at hiding super powers.” he said. His face looked like he was actually calculating the likelihood of the scenario. She let out a huff.

“You’re no fun.” she said. He didn’t answer, but his eyes almost appeared amused. 

“I thought you wanted to run?” he said after a moment, pointing down the road. 

“Yeah, whatever.” she said. She considered rescinding her idea, but they were already down here, and she didn’t want to back out. He gave her a very small grin, gesturing for her to start. She made a face at him, then turned and started running without warning. She stayed ahead for a moment, but was surprised at how fast Bucky caught up. She also anticipated more noise from him, wearing his clunky work boots, but his footsteps were very close to silent on the concrete. She kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, but his face was stoic. As the kilometers passed and her breathing became a little more strained, he was still breathing evenly. As they reached the library and made a turn, Mika realized that she may have been way too fast to try and engage Bucky in any sort of competition. 

He didn’t make conversation as they ran, for which she was grateful. As they made their way back, the fatigue from the last week really set in. The adrenaline from her anger earlier had diminished, leaving nothing but her aching muscles and burning lungs. She was going much slower at the end than she did at the beginning, but Bucky stayed with her. He didn’t seem frustrated at their pace, he didn’t try to convince her to speed up or to slow down. In fact, if she matched his pace, it seemed to be the best thing for her tired body. 

They finally made it back to their apartment building, the lamp post in front of it giving them a good finish line. Mika bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she took in great gulps of air. Bucky stood nearby, his breathing still slow and steady. She wanted to be mad, but noticed the hair around his face stuck to the skin with sweat. Maybe he wasn’t breathing hard, but he did have to put  _ some _ work into it. 

“Feel better?” he asked. Mika stood up straight, trying her best to control her breathing.

“A little.” she replied. She walked to the front door of the building, scanning her fob to unlock it. Bucky pulled it open, holding it for her and gesturing for her to enter first. She nodded her thanks, and began the trek up the stairs to the top floor. The silence seemed heavier inside the building, where there were no ambient sounds from nature to help soften it. Their footsteps felt like claps against her ears, their breathing like hurricane winds. Her very skin crawled at the exhaustion she felt. Even then, she had the sneaking suspicion that sleep was going to elude her. 

She wasn’t quite sure what to say when they reached the top of the stairs, but Bucky seemed perfectly happy to just go on his way without the worries of small talk. Mika wondered (not for the first time) what had happened to him in his life that made him this way. Interactions with him were always weird - one minute, he seemed to be stuck in his own head, ignoring the rest of the world. Another minute - well, he was going on ten kilometer runs with her in the middle of the night, just to be sure she was safe. 

He waved goodbye, going to his door. She paused at hers, turning back to him.

“Hey, Bucky?” she asked. He turned quickly, as if she was going to ask him to spring into action.

“Yes?” he almost whispered. She wondered how a man that had obviously been through some shit could speak so gently. It was as if he had forgotten how to use his voice.

She panicked. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask him. “Uh, the tea,” she settled. “Is there anything in it besides nutmeg?”

He paused, gazing just past her as if he were reading the recipe behind her. “Honey.” he said after a moment. “A little bit of honey.” 

“Thanks.” she said. He nodded back, and allowed the silence to settle back over them. Mika couldn’t handle the discomfort, and turned to push her door open.

“If you need anything…” he said. It was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear it. Her eyes flitted back to his. He left the sentence hanging, but he was looking at her with a very serious expression. His hand was gripping his own doorknob very tightly, but he was making no other motions.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” she said. She thought of thanking him for going running with her, but figured that would overdo it. He already looked strained with the interaction, so she gave him a smile and quietly slipped into her own apartment. 

Her apartment was somehow even more quiet in her apartment than in the hallway. She strode across the small space, turning on her television in her room as she passed by it. She didn’t know what was playing at such a late hour; it was some cooking show that she’d never seen. She turned her shower on, letting it get warm as she stripped off her sweaty clothes. She meant to toss them in her laundry bin, but left them in a pile on her bathroom floor. She stepped under the spray, letting the water wash away the dirt and grime and frustration. She was  _ tired _ . 

A different cooking show had started while she was in the shower, one that was a little more familiar. She picked her pillow up from the floor, tossing it back on the bed before climbing underneath the blankets herself. Now that she wasn’t running, the air felt a little cooler. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position so she could sleep. But everything felt just a little bit off. 

After an hour of trying to fall asleep, she gave up and got out of bed. It wasn’t in the quick, frustrated way that she did earlier in the night. This time she got up slowly, feeling defeated. She turned the television off as she walked by, resigning herself to just starting work for the day. She flipped the television in the living room on, but nothing was playing, the screen just asked which application she wished to open. She didn’t notice the silence this time, as she was in the kitchen preparing the kettle. She put it on to boil, slowly moving towards the pantry. Her legs were like jelly from the run and the stairs. 

Mika initially grabbed her box of black tea, but paused as she noticed the peppermint behind it. While she wasn’t feeling sick, she almost felt hungover. She impulsively tossed the first box of tea back in and grabbed the last peppermint bag from the carton. She put the bag in her mug, and waited patiently for the water to boil. Once the kettle was almost screaming, she pulled it off and filled the cup. She tried to multitask by logging in to her work laptop while the tea was steeping, but every movement felt slow. She felt like she was wading through mud, with fog over her eyes. Glimpses of her dream from earlier resurfaced, but she shook the thoughts away. Only children got scared over nightmares. 

She started up the most recent show she’d been watching on Netflix, but wasn’t really bothering to pay attention. She pulled the tea bag from the cup and grabbed honey and nutmeg from the cupboard. She didn’t know how much of either to mix in, but she did the best she could. It still didn’t taste quite like the first time she’d had it, but it was definitely much closer. 

Mika curled up on the couch, toggling the mouse on her laptop so she would stay logged in. She pulled a blanket over her legs, then settled into the cushions. The tea helped her feel warmer, and the quiet hum of the television was soothing background noise. She opened her current project, eyes glancing lazily over the code in front of her. There was a bug in the program she needed to find, but as she laid on the couch and her tea slowly disappeared, the letters and numbers started running together. Before she realized it, she was fast asleep, the empty cup still clutched in her fingers and the taste of peppermint lingering on her tongue. 

By the time she woke up, the sun was past its highest point in the sky, and her laptop had long since run low on battery. She uncurled her legs, the muscles stiff from sustaining her position for so long. She sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She hadn’t intended to sleep this late, but she didn’t feel bad about it. Obviously she needed it. Her stomach growled loudly, so she slowly got up and made her way to the kitchen. She was sore from her midnight run, but in a good way. It was the soreness from doing something, as opposed to the general ache from not sleeping. She popped a premade meal in the microwave, leaning against the island while it rotated around. She thought about making more tea, but decided that was too much work, and popped a coffee pod into the brewer instead. The microwave beeped just as she finished putting milk and sugar in her coffee, the mug dangerously full. She bent down to meet it at the counter, taking a sip to make the level more manageable. Her mouth burned from the hot liquid, but she didn’t care. She needed the caffeine and the food. 

With fresh eyes and more than a couple hours of sleep, it was easier to find the bug in her code and adjust it accordingly. She spent a few more hours working on the next part, trying to get a solid start on it before she reached her time for the week. It wasn’t quite the way she wanted it when her timer dinged, so she made a few last minute notes on her ideas before logging out. She sat up straighter, pulling her arms high over her head to stretch again. Her meal earlier had long since given up, and once again her stomach was angrily alerting her to its emptiness. She checked the time; Elena would be coming over for their Friday Friend Fest in a couple hours and bringing food, so a sweet snack would have to do for now. 

The refrigerator didn’t offer her any appetizing options. The pantry was unhelpful as well. She saw a box of snack cakes, but was tremendously disappointed to find that Past Mika had finished them off and left the empty box behind. She tossed it in the bin, trying not to be too frustrated by it. Back in the pantry, the now free space allowed some graham crackers to surface. She gave a little bit of a grimace, picking up the box and fishing out a piece. It wasn’t quite enough to satisfy her stomach. 

Mika paused, her mind whirring. She went back to the refrigerator, and was happy to see she had a few key ingredients that she’d been hoping for. After punching a few buttons on her phone to get music playing through her speakers, she got to work. She had blueberries and sugar coming to a simmer on the stove while she crushed up a few graham crackers. Once the mixture on the stove was heated, she went and stirred it continuously, waiting for it to be the correct consistency. Once it achieved that, she moved it to the side. In her mixer, she put in some marscapone, along with more sugar and vanilla. She set the mixer to a fair pace, allowing it to beat the ingredients together while she melted butter to mix with the graham crackers. Ten minutes later, all her pieces were assembled, and she was ready to construct her snack. 

She layered each piece carefully in a glass bowl, admiring her finished work. Elena always made fun of her - she could make desserts with ease, but attempting to make anything remotely savory usually ended with a fire extinguisher and an ashamed call for take out. She snapped a quick picture of the cheesecake, making a mental note to post it to Instagram later. 

The kitchen window was open, allowing the breeze to bring the first signs of autumn into the apartment. She leaned against it, the setting sun warming her face despite the slight chill in the air. After the stress of the past few days - few  _ weeks _ , really - it was nice to sit and breathe for a second. She looked down at the cheesecake to see that she was almost halfway through it, which was sad. The recipe was technically supposed to be for two people, but she usually had no problem polishing it off on her own. 

She had a thought.

Before she could overthink it, she grabbed a second spoon and marched across the hallway. She had no idea if Bucky was home or not, but figured it was worth a try. Worst case scenario, more cheesecake for her.

Mika knocked on the door, then took a step back away from it. He seemed like the type who would need a little space. Silence answered her. She was just about to turn and go back to her apartment when she heard the creak of the floor next to the door. Bucky opened it, just enough to see out.

“Yes?” he asked. 

“Your education on desserts starts now.” Mika replied. She knew what he’d said before - that he wasn’t really into sweets - but she’d also meant what she’d replied.

“No, thank you.” he said quietly. She held out the handle of the spare spoon to him.

“Just one bite.” she prompted. He looked at her as if she’d grown an extra head. She rolled her eyes, taking her own spoon and eating a scoop. “See, not poison.”

“I don’t really like sweets.” he said. She continued to hold the extra spoon out to him.

“Humor me.” she said. “I’m very stubborn, I can wait a long time. Just taste it, and I’ll leave you alone.”

She could see his fingers curling and uncurling. He was nervous. She wiggled the spoon at him, giving him a look that hopefully was as powerful as her grandmother’s whenever anyone tried to insist they weren’t hungry. After what felt like an hour, he reached forward and took the spoon. He didn’t have gloves on; Mika thought wondered if this was the first time she’d seen his hands since that night. The metal one was hidden behind the door, whether because of function or because he didn’t want her to see it, she didn’t know. 

“One bite.” he said, as if this was the most difficult thing he’d ever dealt with in his life. He took the smallest bit from the bowl, which she was holding out to allow the maximum amount of space between them. Mika had never been good with personal space, as she was an affectionate person by nature. But she’d learned over the years that people feel more comfortable if she let them dictate the contact rules. 

“Ah ah, you have to get a blueberry with it. That’s the best part.” she said, pointing at the fruit. Bucky gave her a dark look, but carefully added a blueberry to the spoon. He stared at it for a while, and Mika wondered if he really was worried about poison. Then, as if he was afraid it would disappear, he consumed the morsel with a decisive movement. She watched his face as he tasted it, but he showed no reaction and said nothing. “What do you think? You won’t hurt my feelings, I promise”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, looking like he was choosing his words carefully. “Too sweet. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, maybe the next one.” she replied with a shrug. The rejection stung a little bit, but she kept her smile as she waved. “Bye!” 

She turned back to her apartment, trying to think of what she would have him try next. She knew it was probably weird to him, that she’d had him try her food. And it wasn’t exactly a normal way for her to strike up a conversation with acquaintances. But she knew what it was like, to be all alone in a new city. And even if Bucky didn’t mind being by himself, she was determined to have him at least feel comfortable with his neighbor. Worst case scenario, they continued to exchange short pleasantries in the hall. Best case scenario, maybe they could be friends.

She didn’t lament his passing on the cheesecake for long. After all, that meant more for her. She was just about to sit back down at the window when a knock echoed through her apartment. She furrowed her brows, sneaking up to the door to look through the peep hole. There stood Bucky, looking awkward and nervous. Mika opened the door, a confused look on her face.

“Change your mind?” she asked. He gave her half a grin and shook his head.

“Your spoon.” he said, holding the utensil out. He had his gloves on now. 

“Oh. Thanks.” she said, taking it from him. They stood there for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not to continue the conversation. Mika considered inviting him to join them for Friday Friend Fest, but knew Elena would pitch a fit at the idea. Luckily, Bucky saved them from the uncomfortable silence.

 

“See you around.” he said, turning and starting down the stairs. Mika stood there for a moment, trying to absorb his quick departure. She decided not to read too far into it, figuring it was just another one of his quirks. With a half laugh at her own inner joke, she went back into her apartment, figuring it was time for her to get ready for the evening. She’d try to figure out her neighbor another day.


	4. Open the Gates

There weren’t many times that Bucky found himself happy with his enhancements. In fact, he could probably count those moments on the one human hand he had left. Most days, he woke up hating his vibranium arm, and wondering how badly it would hurt to rip it off. His enhanced senses often overwhelmed him so much that his entire brain felt it was on fire. Any sudden movements around him made his muscles ache to neutralize the threat. 

But some days, when cargo falls on him and snaps both bones in his forearm, he doesn’t mind the advanced regeneration. He has to take care to reset the break before his coworkers find him, as he doesn’t want to bring any more attention to himself than necessary. There was a fair bit of pain as he moved his fingers for the other men, but he kept his face neutral. He made a point to finish his shift, though he did have to set and reset his radius and ulna multiple times over the course of the night. By the time he was walking home, he felt the bones knitting back together, and the incessant pain had reduced to a sharp ache. He didn’t mind the pain; it gave him something to focus on besides his thoughts. Any distraction was a welcome distraction to him.

He didn’t expect to see anyone on his walk home, but was perplexed by someone pacing in front of his apartment building. He was immediately on edge, his muscles straining against the still-healing bones as his fists clenched. The anxiety diminished as he recognized his neighbor, and instead he experienced something he hadn’t felt in a long time - vague annoyance. Mika was resting her hands on her knees, and obviously had just finished running. A couple snarky comments half-formed in his mind, but he was unable to settle on one before she stood upright, catching sight of him standing there.

“You’re a damn ninja, you know that?” she exclaimed. He almost smiled at the insinuation - he’d been called many things over the years, but ninja was not one of them. He suppressed the grin, remembering that he was exacerbated by her currently.

“You went by yourself.” he said. Clearly she did not see the riskiness of her behavior. 

“Well yes, I couldn’t very well wait for you to suddenly appear.” she said. She was pacing, trying to keep warm in the cold night air. She moved to the door of the building without looking back, and he assumed he was supposed to follow her. Her tone suggested that she was aiming for casual conversation. He opened the door for her as she scanned it to unlock, his right arm still hanging as he tried to let the bones finish healing.

“I could have gone with you.” he said, though he was unsure the logistics of how that would work. She had no way to contact him, and maintained a relatively irregular schedule. His own hours were variable as well. 

“And I would appreciate that. But I know you’re very busy, and contrary to popular belief, I can actually take care of myself pretty well.” she said. She was turned and grinned at him, but he didn’t see the joke. She seemed to have more muscular strength than most women he’d seen since rejoining civilian life (and certainly more muscular strength than most women he’d known before The Fall), but the instincts she’d displayed a few weeks ago had not been reassuring. Even now, as she’d turned to look at him, her foot had trembled precariously on the edge of the stair. He put his right hand on the handrail behind her, ignoring the complaints of his broken bones in the case that she lost her balance.

“It’s not safe. You could have gotten hurt.” he reiterated. He was hoping to convince her to find other avenues of fitness, but he was having difficulty splitting his attention between and the grinding of his fractures. He’d never quite gotten used to the feeling of his body regenerating at intense rates. Healing time was certainly decreased, but the heightened inflammation and rebuilding responses were very uncomfortable. He’d learned early on that the Soldier didn’t feel pain, he made the Man deal with it.

“I promise you, I actually have some self preservation skills when I’m not impaired by alcohol.” she said. He noticed she was short of breath, fatigued between her run and having to traverse the stairs. He thought to comment on it, but did not think it would make a convincing point. His mind whirred in circles trying to come up with another argument, but at his core he didn’t understand why she couldn’t see the merit in the one he had already offered. His arm cramped, making him feel annoyed again.

“Still not safe.” he said, trying to be more emphatic. He didn’t understand why she looked triumphant as they finally reached the top of the stairs and went their separate ways. Clearly she missed his point by a long shot. 

He pushed the interaction to another part of his mind, deciding that a solution would not be found tonight. Instead he focused on his nightly routine, rinsing off in the shower before dressing in clean clothes and neatly folding the dirty ones. The dirty clothes went on top of the stack, and he grabbed his journal and pen before crawling into his sleeping bag. He thumbed through until he found the last written page, the pen poised over the paper for a moment as he went step by step through his day. 

_ Hail a taxi by waving. _

_ Radio shows were good entertainment. War of the Worlds was the best. _

_ Women used to paint lines on the back of their legs (not sure why). _

There was still an ache in his forearm as he wrote, but it was dwindling quickly. Today had been a good day, with three random tidbits of his past coming back to him. They were the only pieces of his puzzle that had reappeared in the last few days, whereas over a week ago he was getting multiple pieces a day. He didn’t understand how it worked - he knew, logically, that he had suffered immense brain damage, and that the only reason he wasn’t comatose was the artificial regeneration the scientists equipped him with. But he didn’t know why sometimes more things came back to him, and sometimes he couldn’t bring back anything at all. The things he remembered very rarely related to whatever was going on at the moment, they just seemed to appear at random. 

He didn’t want to think too hard about it, so he shut the journal and went to sleep. The sun would be up in a few hours, and so would he. 

The next night, his arm had completely knit itself back to normal, and his boss seemed mildly glad that he returned to work seemingly injury free. The kind of help that Bucky gave - lower in wage and benefit free - was not easy to come by, and he would not have been easy to replace. If he’d been seriously injured, Bucky had no doubt that the job would be lost. 

The next night, Bucky once again asked his boss if he could simply take his pay home with him at the end of the shift. This was the only interaction that ever took place between the two of them, and it took place every other week. Olaf shook his head “no,” not offering any explanation. It confused Bucky to no end - he assumed he was working under the table for this man, yet he had to collect his wages as if he were a normal employee. The other men had checks with their names on it, made out neatly in print. Olaf was agreeable enough to pay Bucky straight in cash, which was relatively unusual. So he did his job with no further questions, and waited until the next day to fetch his money.

He always waited until after the lunch hour to make the trip. That’s when the streets were quietest and people were least likely to pay attention. He slipped his baseball cap on, pulling it low over his eyes and making his way back to the warehouse district. The day shift workers were out on the floor, and the secretary was out back for her afternoon smoke break. It was easy for Bucky to go in, grab the envelope labelled  _ J. Jones _ , sign off on the sheet, and leave before anyone was any wiser. He figured he was home free, walking through the nearly empty streets of Bucharest, when he spotted a familiar person walking ahead of him. There was still time to escape, Mika hadn’t spotted him yet. His training pulled at his bones, trying to pull him to the safety of solitude and shadows. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and purposefully kept putting one foot in front of the other. 

“Well, look who’s out during the day time.” she said. He wasn’t positive she would stop him to say hello, but figured there was a high percentage chance.

“It happens occasionally.” he said, stopping his forward progress. Her tone and statement implied she was aiming for short, casual conversation, not just passing pleasantries.

“You out running errands?” she asked. Suspicion simmered in his chest, but he remembered that she was just Mika, his kind neighbor who had no signs of sinister intentions.

“Had to go in to work.” he explained succinctly. Just because he was ninety-two percent sure she was not an agent of Hydra didn’t mean he needed to show all his cards.

“I thought you worked nights?” she asked. This surprised him, and once again he wondered if she had mind reading powers. Realistically, he figured she just noticed him leaving in the evenings and coming home in the early hours of the morning. Given how irregular her schedule was, it was the likely conclusion to come to.

“Yes. But I have to pick up my check during normal business hours.” he said. He tried not to let any bitterness slip in to his response. He would still try to pick it up overnight two weeks from now.

“Oh. Well yea, I guess money is a good reason for you to leave the Bat Cave.” she said. Once again, she spoke in a way that implied a reference, but he did not understand it. His confusion must have shown on his face, because she followed up with, “Really?  _ Batman _ is a pretty big deal.”

“Don’t know it.” he said. He had a vague inkling of it - he thought he’d heard the name before, maybe - but couldn’t remember any details. He couldn’t even picture it.

“Add it to the list I guess.” she said. This perplexed him. Once again, she referred to them spending time together like it wasn’t anything to question. “What are you up to right now? Want to join me for a quick lunch?”

Her question surprised him, derailing his train of thought. He had been prepared for a short interaction. Once again, his training nagged at the back of his mind, telling him to retreat. “Oh, I don’t…”  _ think so _ , is what he wanted to say, but he stopped himself. Normal civilians went to lunch when invited. Normal civilians did not consider lunch to be a tactical risk.

“Half an hour or less, I promise. I have a call at three o’clock I have to be back for.” Mika said, her eyes wide and pleading. That was an oddly precise and reassuring statement, and he wondered for the hundredth time if she could read minds. Based on the look she was giving him, she just wanted someone to share a meal with her. Dare he say, a  _ friend _ . It had been a long time since he’d had a friend. Or been one. He didn’t know if he remembered how.

“Okay.” he agreed. He may not remember much about civilian relationships, but generally being agreeable was acceptable. 

“Excellent. The place around the corner has a great lunch special, you’ll love it.” she said, walking past him with a bright smile. He turned and followed her, catching up in a couple long strides. A breeze rolled by them; he didn’t think anything of it, but it must have given Mika a chill. She shivered slightly, but then surprised him again by reaching for his arm. It was such a nonchalant move that he didn’t think she even registered it. Her touch was so light, it didn’t even register with the artificial neurosensory systems grafted into the plates. He was so completely thrown by the gesture, so gentle and  _ human _ , that he couldn’t stop himself from pulling away from her. The realization of the movement registered on her face, and her cheeks suddenly matched the red of her jacket. Bucky, for the first time in a while, felt what he thought was remorse.

“Sorry, it’s…” he didn’t know what he was trying to say this time. His skin itched and throbbed where his prosthetic met his chest, and the metal plates clicked as he balled his fist in his jacket pocket. He felt the burning warmth of shame bloom across his chest, and he looked down at the ground instead of at Mika.

“Nothing to be sorry for. That was my bad.” she said. She was didn’t seem bothered, as if the moment hadn’t been weird or awkward for her. He wondered how she could be so easy going, when he felt like every moment he spent with her was unpredictable. He returned his eyes to the ground, and tried to get his pulse to slow and his mind to quit running in circles. Drop him in a den of assassins? No problem. Going to lunch like a normal person? He was at a loss. 

Mika led him to a small restaurant, brightly decorated with flags and a door propped open to show the inside. He broke away from her, claiming one of the outdoor tables. She paused as he sat down, quirking an eyebrow at him. She waved to someone inside, then joined him at the small wire table outside. He leaned his back against the wall of the building, not minding the sun on his face and the light breeze dancing around them. Mika sat across from him, pulling a leg up on the chair. She seemed to be cold, but didn’t say anything about it. 

Their waitress arrived moments later, her blue eyes sparkling as she introduced herself and told them about the specials. Bucky was distracted though. Something about the way she smiled, and the way her dark ponytail moved. She’d said her name was Rebecca, which made the back of his brain buzz with a memory that wasn’t there. 

“Do you always sit outside?” Mika asked, once again bringing him back to the present.

“I like space.” he said, shrugging. It wasn’t necessarily a lie - he did prefer the openness, as opposed to the dark walls of his apartment - but he didn’t feel the need to say that it was for quick exit strategies. He realized that she could misconstrue his words to mean he was more upset about the earlier episode than he let on, when he really wasn’t. His brain whirred as he came up with something to add to make it better. “I spend most of the time indoors.” is what he settled on.

“Fair. That’s why I don’t like the winter, there only seems to be a couple hours of daylight before it gets dark again.” she said. She didn’t notice him flinch at the word  _ winter _ , but luckily the waitress returned with their drinks before he could get caught up in his own head. The girl eyed him as they thanked her, and he gazed back. She smiled warmly, pink coloring her cheeks. So help him, she reminded him of someone. But he couldn’t place it. She went inside for her notepad, and returned for their order. She’d put something on her lips to make them shiny, which was curious to him. They gave their order without incident, though the waitress did seem to wink at him before going inside. He wasn’t positive if the wink was purposeful. They were not conspirators. Also, it was no longer 1940, and he imagined conspirators didn’t wink at each other anymore. He didn’t understand this interaction. He looked to Mika, who was grinning as if she had a secret.

“What?” he asked cautiously. For some reason, that grin made him nervous. He couldn’t read anything in her body language, or in the context of their conversation that would make her react like that. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked. Bucky was so stunned, he didn’t answer for a moment. Him? A  _ girlfriend _ ? The very idea was preposterous. 

“No.” he said. He’d had girlfriends in the past, he knew. Back when he was a normal man. Before the Army, before  _ everything _ . But the idea of anyone caring for him in a romantic way at this point was ludicrous.

“I’m just curious.” Mika said, holding up her hands in a mock surrender. “I think our waitress is being extra friendly to you. And you seem to be a little interested as well.”

Her analysis seemed fair, though incorrect. “She just...reminds me of someone. I just can’t remember who.” he explained. His words were soft, uncertain.

“Oh.” she said. Once again, Bucky was good at halting conversation. The breeze came through, which felt good to him. He noticed Mika shiver, and the skin of her neck mottled with goose flesh. She didn’t say anything, but she held her cup of tea as if it were her last source of life.

“You’re cold.” he said. It was an obvious statement, and he wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to say.

“No, I’m fine. The breeze just hit me just right.” she said, shrugging one shoulder. The movement wasn’t as smooth as she thought it was. Bucky had bits of memories appearing - women with elaborately curled hair, Army-issued jacket around their shoulders. They had their arms around his, not unlike how Mika moved earlier. He turned back to her, pulling off his outermost layer and putting it on her lap. 

“Here. Take this.” he said. He wasn’t quite as smooth as he was in 1940. 

“And what about you?” she asked. He shook his head, pushing back memories he didn’t care to think of at that moment.

“This isn’t bad. I’ve sat in much worse.” he explained. He’d lost a few toes to frostbite once - but they’d grown back.

“Cryptic.” she said, accepting his odd answer. “Alright, well...thank you.” She put her tea down and picked up the jacket, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She was practically swimming in it, it was so big for her. The word  _ cute _ passed through his mind, but it felt weird. He looked away from her, checking for any movement around them. The streets were still relatively empty, the only new addition to the scenery being a shopkeeper down the street, sitting on the front step smoking a cigarette. 

“Do you like your job?” Mika asked, breaking the silence. He looked back to her, noticing how she looked younger with his giant jacket surrounding her. Her question didn’t surprise him, but it wasn’t one he’d thought about before.

“I think so. Keeps me occupied.” he said. That was the truth. He wanted to work nights, and he wanted manual labor, so that maybe he could sleep without waking up from terrible nightmares. Well, he wasn’t sure if they were nightmares or memories from the Soldier. Flashes of gunshots passed through his mind, but he shook them away. He had to stay focused on the conversation. “And it pays the bills.” 

“Yea, paying the bills is usually a good idea.” she said, grinning at her own light sarcasm. He felt the corner of his mouth pull into a grin before he could stop it. 

“Do you like yours?” he asked. He knew that it was polite to return questions in kind. It had been decades since he’d had actual conversations, but the practice was coming back to him.

“It’s alright.” she said with a shrug. “It challenges me a lot, mentally. But sometimes I get tired of being at a computer all day.”

She did seem like someone who liked to move around a lot. Even now, during their lunch, she’d changed positions four times, though Bucky didn’t think she noticed she was doing it. “So you run.” he said, putting two and two together.

“Exactly. I’ve never been good at sitting still for long periods of time.” she answered, sounding like he’d answered a tough question correctly on a test. “I used to be quite the athlete, back in the day. Played anything they would let me - football, basketball, rugby, you name it. Not so much anymore.”

The sports seemed familiar, but didn’t seem to fit in this context, particularly football. He remembered football. He had visions of men in leather helmets, fighting in mud. He’d always wanted to play it, but never did. He couldn’t afford the equipment, and Steve couldn’t play because of asthma. He paused for a moment, committing that to memory before coming back to Mika.

“Football...with the helmets?” he asked, finally remembering his original question. She tilted her head to the side, confused. Her face changed as she understood his question.

“Oh, no. Football of the European variety.” she said, which made it Bucky’s turn again to be confused. “Soccer?” she added, her accent thick as she spoke in English.

“Oh.” he said. He knew some about soccer, but it hadn’t been very popular. Again, his mind was buzzing with a memory - it had the same oblong ball as American football, but there were no helmets. The men didn’t move the same way. This memory wasn’t on a field in New York - this memory was somewhere in the wilderness of Europe, with the Army. Steve wasn’t there. “But there’s other forms of football?” He was hoping she could fill in the blanks for him. He didn’t know if this game was still around, but it was worth a shot.

“Yes, like Americans have it with the helmets.” she said. “There’s also a Gaelic version. And Australian.” 

“Australian…” this seemed familiar. He remembered someone with a different accent, someone they’d picked up along the way. He wasn’t with the Army, he just didn’t leave. He was the one who taught them the game. “Footie.” he finally said, finally remembering what the man called it, though he couldn’t remember his face or name.

“I think that’s what they call it, yea.” she agreed. He felt elated - this was one of the clearest, most detailed memories he’d had in awhile. 

“I played that, one time. When I was younger.” he said. He remembered the rough leather of the ball, how the mud made it difficult to hold on to. It was supposed to touch the ground every ten steps, but it didn’t bounce in the wetness. He remembered tackling his buddies, the mud making their landing softer. It was one of the few good memories from his Army days.

“And how did you find it?” she asked. Her eyes were curious.

“Fun, I think.” he said. They hadn’t been very good at the game - after all, they didn’t know most of the rules - but it was a welcome distraction from the War. He tried to think back, before then. He knew he’d been athletic, seeing as Hydra needed that foundation for their experience. Different pieces appeared, but he couldn’t hold on to them. There were only two that stuck well enough to note. “I mainly did baseball. And boxing.”

“Boxing? Like  _ Rocky _ ?” she asked, seemingly impressed. Bucky’s mind was once again sent into overdrive as he tried to understand her comment, but he was unfamiliar with this Rocky. Mika let out a sigh as she realized his confusion. “Seriously? No  _ Rocky _ ? That film is  _ iconic _ .”

So  _ Rocky _ was a film, then. He didn’t think it wise to tell her he hadn’t seen a movie since 1939. “I can’t tell you the last time I saw a movie.” he said instead, shrugging. They didn’t seem to interest him now. Not much did.

“Well someday soon, I’ll introduce you to the magic of the cinema. Your film reference knowledge is tragic.” she said. He tried to tell her not to bother, that most of his modern reference knowledge was going to be  _ tragic _ , as she said, but was interrupted by the waitress, returning with their order. She was smiling a lot, trying to make conversation with him. He didn’t understand; did she recognize him too, maybe? But if she felt that familiar with him, then wouldn’t she have mentioned it? His name, or the situation in which they’d met? The entire thing was confusing. Between deciphering this and maintaining proper conversation protocols with Mika, his brain was hurting. Mika had that same grin on her face as before, but she didn’t say anything this time.

“So what is your favorite movie?” she asked. She didn’t realize he only had about five options. He thought carefully, trying to get the name to come back to him. He could picture the girl, and the dog, and then someone green-

“ _ Wizard of Oz _ .” he whispered. He hadn’t thought of it in years. He didn’t know how he was able to bring the name back, but he was glad for it. He could think of brief flickers of the other few movies he’d seen, but not enough to make any sense of them. 

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “Not what I was expecting. A good choice, though.”

He remembered  _ Wizard of Oz _ because it was the first movie that wasn’t completely in black and white. He could still hear the munchkin’s song as Dorothy woke up in the brilliant Oz, the way the ruby slippers sparkled on the screen. He remembered taking Steve and a couple of girls they’d met, going opening night. The memory brought a smile to his face. “The first time I saw it, the colors...they were incredible. Never seen anything like it.” 

“Who was your favorite? My sisters loved the Scarecrow, but I was always partial to the Lion myself.” Mika said. He knew she once again didn’t realize the event she’d witnessed, but he didn’t fault her for it. He’d spent so long being a pawn of Hydra, being scrutinized and bare and vulnerable, that he wanted to keep these things to himself. He wanted to figure out who he was again. 

“Had a thing for Dorothy.” he replied. He could picture the actress’s face, but he couldn’t remember her name, or even what she sounded like. Her companions materialized in his mind’s eye, and he saw an opportunity. “Though maybe now I should switch it to the Tin Man.”

Mika laughed, which made him feel a weird sense of pride. Maybe, just maybe, he was figuring out how to be a person again.  
  
“Well yes, you need to support your brethren.” she said, as if this transition were an obvious choice. He grinned, but faltered for a moment. Brothers, that’s what they’d called each other in the Army. The Howling Commandos - those had been his brothers, before he fell. Before Hydra took him.

He shook his head, clenching his fist under the table so hard his nails dug into the palm of his hand. The pain helped distract him, and keep the memories at bay. Some memories he was happy to reclaim; others, he wanted to leave buried in the dark depths of his damaged mind.

“And you?” he asked. Continue the conversation. Find another stimulus to focus on. 

“Me what?” she asked. Seemed she was as easily distracted as he was. He almost forgot exactly what he meant by his question.

“Your favorite.” he said. He didn’t specify her favorite  _ what _ . 

“Oh, right, duh.” she said, rolling her eyes at herself. He didn’t understand her expression, but figured it was a modern colloquialism. “It varies, but I always seem to come back to  _ Pride and Prejudice _ .”

Bucky was confused. He could have sworn they were talking about films, but he distinctly remembered  _ Pride and Prejudice _ being a book. He remembered seeing the pages, held by a woman with a gloved hand. He could picture the cover, framed by a picnic blanket.

“Isn’t that...a book?” he asked. He hoped the conversation hadn’t turned while he’d been distracted by the onslaught of memories he was having today. His head hurt. 

“Well, yes, but they made a movie of it. More than one, actually.” Mika explained. Bucky was so relieved that he hadn’t missed a change in conversation, that he didn’t actually care about her answer. It shouldn’t surprise him, anyway - he remembered when  _ Gone With The Wind  _ became a film.

“Hmph.” he said, shrugging. Seemed some things were still in style, even since 1940. 

“That’s it?” she asked. She seemed shocked or agitated, he couldn’t tell. He tilted his head to the side. He didn’t think that her statement required any more of a response. He had neither read the book nor seen the film, he couldn’t offer any commentary on it.

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious as to her change in emotion.

“I just gave you earth shattering knowledge. I told you that a book you know has been made to a full length feature film, and that the adaptation is  _ good _ , and all you say is, ‘ _ hmph _ ’?” she exclaimed. Her eyes were wide, her voice impassioned in defense of  _ Pride and Prejudice _ . He couldn’t help but grin, the whole situation was so unlike anything he’d experienced in recent memory.

“Never said I read it.” he replied. He distinctly remembered  _ not _ reading it at the time. Mika’s mouth actually fell open slightly, and for a moment she was stunned into silence.

“Didn’t say you -” she couldn’t finish her sentence at first, her mouth moving as she tried to come up with what she wanted to say. She shook her head and blinked her eyes a few times, as if trying to clear her vision. “Is that...two jokes? In one day?”

Bucky felt very satisfied with himself. He didn’t give her an answer, instead leaning back against the wall and checking the area around them. The shopkeeper down the street had finished his cigarette and returned inside. An older woman slowly moved down the street, walking her equally as old dog. The waitress returned to collect their dishes, idly chatting with them. Bucky thought she was much more talkative than the people who worked at the cafe around the corner from the apartment, which were the only other waitstaff he had interacted with. He put a polite smile on his face, his brain working overdrive to think of proper responses for this type of social interaction. This was easier - general civility, small smiles,  _ please _ and  _ thank you _ . This he could handle. He handed her cash - the only way he paid for anything - and instructed her to keep the change. The waitress was giving him an odd look he couldn’t decipher; he smiled in response, not knowing what else to do. 

The silence was welcome when she left. He was using parts of his brain that didn’t get exercised very often, and he was very quickly fatiguing. He sat diligently, waiting for the waitress to return with Mika’s credit card. He assumed, based on social norms he’d witnessed, that they would walk back to the apartment together. The waitress had seemed flushed, and Bucky wondered if it was warm inside the restaurant. Mika’s cheeks were pale with the cold. Maybe, if there was a next time, he could try to sit inside. Maybe. Maybe.

The waitress returned, looking flushed and nervous. It wasn’t the same nervous that people usually had when they looked at him, so he assumed it was a character trait. She handed the receipts to them, hurrying back in with barely a farewell. Bucky looked down at his receipt, noticing curling numbers written in thick black ink on the bottom of it. This confused him, as the numbers had nothing to do with his total. He’d paid in cash, there should be no necessary additions to the paper. Was it a code? 

“Did she charge you incorrectly?” Mika asked, interrupting his thoughts. He must have been staring at the paper too long. He shook his head, deciding that the numbers must be for some sort of record keeping purposes. He placed it on the table, going to fold it so he could carefully store it with his other receipts. “Bucky! She gave you her number!” Mika added, sounding excited.

“So?” Bucky asked, putting the receipt in his pocket and standing up. That’s when he figured out the numbers must be her phone number. What an odd thing to give to a stranger. He started walking back to their apartment, assuming Mika would follow him. She jogged to keep up with him, letting out a noise of exclamation.

“‘So’? She was cute! You should call her.” she said. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, trying to see if she was serious. It appeared that she was. 

“Can’t.” he said. Even if he had the emotional or social capacity, he was not about to phone a girl from a telephone booth. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” she asked. She seemed slightly offended. “You said you didn’t have a girlfriend. Oh! Unless you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” he said. It amazed him that she thought he had the capacity for romancing either gender. But that was neither here nor there, he had another viable reason. “Don’t have a phone.” he said, continuing towards their building. He noticed Mika fell behind, but took a second to realize she had pulled to a complete stop. He turned back, wondering if she had suddenly been injured without warning. His eyes scanned the higher areas, looking for possible sniper positions. He finally settled back on Mika, who was staring at him in shock again.

“How do you - what do you mean you - no  _ phone _ ?! How do you get anything done?!” she exclaimed, as if the very idea were impossible. 

“Just do.” he said. She seemed very flustered. For some reason, he found this amusing.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m surprised.” she rambled, her hands on her hips. She looked like she was scolding him. “No wonder you haven’t seen  _ Batman _ or  _ Rocky _ . Have you even  _ heard _ of Netflix?”

He had no idea what she was talking about. “No. Is it for fishing?” Nets were still used for fishing, as far as he knew. The Soldier had to cut himself out of one once.

“What on earth am I going to do with you?” she asked, exasperated. She seemed to be talking to herself more than him. She put her hands in the pockets of his jacket, shaking her head as she started walking again. Bucky turned as she passed him, easily falling into stride with her. “You have so much we need to catch up on. It’s a tragedy.”

“I’ve been out of it for a while.” he explained. That was the furthest into an explanation he was going to go, but it was one nonetheless. Mika’s demeanor changed, though he didn’t understand why. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in.” she said, before he could comment. They walked the rest of the way in silence, climbing the never ending staircase to the top floor. Mika pulled his jacket off, handing it back to him before he got to his door. He’d assumed she’d keep it longer, until she felt warmer.

“Thanks.” he said, taking it slowly from her. Her hand was warm as his brushed it, and he supposed she had returned to a comfortable temperature. 

“No, thank you. I definitely didn’t prepare for the elements.” she said, giving him a wide smile. He let one corner of his mouth raise in a grin, giving her a nod before going towards his door. “Oh wait, Bucky?” 

It still felt odd, hearing his name aloud. Especially spoken so gently. “Hm?” he asked, the response feeling easy and natural. It was possibly the first time he’d said something without purposeful precontemplation. It felt weird.

“I have a favor to ask.” she said, suddenly looking very shy. He didn’t know Mika spectacularly well, but she never seemed to be  _ shy _ . He wondered if she had preemptively returned the jacket, and had realized the cold. He handed it back out to her. She shook her head, giving him a tender smile. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t place it. “No, um, that’s very sweet but...well, you mentioned that you did boxing, and I just - I mean, if it’s okay - I was hoping you could teach me some stuff.”

That was certainly not what he’d been expecting. Mika, fight? The Soldier had trained hard, and had trained many others. Phantom pains echoed through his ribs. “Absolutely not.” he said. Mika did not belong in that category. He could not train another to kill. He did not want to access that part of him anymore.

“Just a little bit!” she said. She seemed marginally child-like, trying to bargain. “I don’t need to be professional, I just want to be able to, you know, defend myself.”

This explanation also caught him by surprise. Defensive tactics - those were not often passed on to those he taught before. He could tweak some of the things he knew, make them less aggressive, less combative. “I don’t know.” he said. He was afraid that other memories would surface. Memories that he wanted to forget permanently.

“I promise you, I looked into classes and everything, but they’re all so expensive and they don’t seem to be very good and I just…” she paused. “I don’t like feeling weak. I just want to be able to protect myself. To feel independent again. To be able to go for a run without my neighbor worrying about me.”

Her face was very serious, possibly the most serious he’d ever seen her. This was obviously something that had been troubling her deeply. It wasn’t exactly surprising, Bucky realized. It explained her being awake at odd hours, and feeling the need to run in the middle of the night. He’d also noticed she hadn’t gone out with friends since that night, she’d only had them over to visit before staying home. Besides these emotional considerations, she made another fair point. If he were to teach her to defend herself (and really, who would he trust more than himself for such a task), then that would be one less thing for him to be concerned with. It would be a worthwhile precaution.

“Okay.” he said. She jumped in her excitement, her hands moving slightly toward him before she pulled them back, clasping them in front of her chest. “So you can be safe.”

“Yes! Thank you, that’s all I want.” she said. “Maybe Saturday morning? The gym I go to is nearly empty at that time, and they have a room they use for group classes that has mats and stuff. Say, seven?”

Seven was too late. More risk of interacting with people. “Six.” he said. 

“Six it is then. I’d say I’d text you, but  _ someone _ doesn’t have a phone.” she said, giving him a pointed look. Bucky realized she was joking  _ with _ him, something he didn’t think he’d ever see again. He felt like he was living in an alternate reality, one where he was just an average civilian. His throat felt oddly tight, so he just gave her a grin and a shrug before going into his apartment. He didn’t look through the eyelet to see her reaction, instead taking a moment to lean against the wall and take a deep breath. The unexpected change in his schedule had fatigued him, but he felt accomplished. Their conversation had felt, dare he say,  _ normal _ . He actually felt like a person again. 

He took his receipt from his pocket, tucking it into the box with the few others he had. Perhaps, in a few years, he’d be healed enough to call on a girl who’d expressed interest. But not today. Today, he was still too broken. Today, there were still too many pieces of himself missing. But every day, things felt a little better. His smiles didn’t feel as forced, and he didn’t feel the strong undercurrent of panic any time someone looked at him. He was still hypervigilant, and he probably always would be. He still had nightmares, and those probably would never go away. But one day, he would be a new man. 

He hung his jacket in the closet. A gentle scent of flowers drifted from it, differentiating it from his other clothing. He found he didn’t mind it. As the scent faded from his senses, he sat at his table and pulled his journal toward him. 

He had a lot to write down today.   
  



	5. Foundations

Mika forgot how incredibly quiet everything was at five-thirty on a Saturday morning. Her alarm was loud, and rude, and abrasive at such an early hour. She wasn’t able to sleep well even before the clock started screaming at her - not because of nightmares, for once, but because she was afraid to oversleep and miss her time with Bucky. She was simultaneously anxious and excited to learn self-defense from him, which was another reason she could barely sleep. Her eyes felt puffy and her head cloudy as she sat on the edge of her bed and stretched, but her muscles were buzzing in anticipation. The light of her phone felt extra bright to her sore eyes, and she barely glanced at the news bulletins before just checking the weather and tossing her phone back on the bed.

Coffee, that’s what she needed. She put on her slippers, softly padding into the kitchen on her way to the coffee machine. She paused for a moment at the freezer, grabbing a spoon that she kept in there and pressing it against her eyes to relieve the inflammation before continuing her venture. She turned the machine on, the little display telling her that it needed to warm up. She let out a sigh, going back to her bedroom to change out of her flannel pajamas and into something a little more presentable. She dug through the bin of clean clothes sitting in front of her dresser, trying to find the extra comfy black leggings that she made sure to put through the laundry cycle yesterday. She thought about going with an all-black motif, but decided she was too lazy to keep searching through the pile. Instead, she grabbed whatever sports bra and top that were readily available, and pulled them on. 

Now a little more ready (but also a little more chilly), she went back to the coffee maker and popped in one of the plastic pods. She pulled out a disposable travel cup, placing it underneath the spot and pressing the correct button to fill it with blessed caffeine. Once it started pouring, she went back into her room to grab a sweatshirt. She ran her hands through her dark hair just enough to detangle it, then braided it into a thick plait. She quickly brushed her teeth, though realized that it would help minimally if she was planning to down her cup of coffee on their way to the gym. She shrugged her shoulders, though no one was there to see it, and decided that she shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions before six o’clock in the morning. 

She returned to the kitchen once more, taking the now nearly-full cup and adding sugar and milk to it. She popped the top on, and after thinking for a moment, took another cup and another pod and repeated the process. If the clock on the microwave was right (and she constantly made sure it was), then she still had a couple minutes before it was time to go. She didn’t add milk or sugar to this one, instead just popping the top on it and putting it next to the first one. She slipped her shoes on, then grabbed her gloves and a hat, figuring it would be cold at the early morning hour. She tossed a couple water bottles into a bag, grabbing the two cups off the counter and making her way out the door.

Bucky was already waiting for her in the hallway, trying his best to look casual as he leaned against the wall. His hands were deep in the pockets of his jacket, and he had his signature baseball cap on. Mika could see the tense way he held his shoulders, as if he felt nervous or reserved about this meeting. She gave him the warmest smile she could muster this early, and extended one of the coffee cups. 

“Good morning, I made coffee.” she said softly, the hallway seeming extra quiet given the hour. Bucky eyed the cup warily, and once again looked like he was deciding the likelihood of poison being in it. With a determined set in his jaw, he reached forward and took the cup from her.

“Thank you.” he said, taking a sip and immediately grimacing.

“What? Not a good blend?” Mika asked, the heat of embarrassment creeping up the back of her neck. Usually Bucky didn’t wear his emotions so obviously like that.

“Sorry, just too sweet.” he said, though he kept the cup close to him in an effort to be polite. Mika cocked her head to the side, confused. Coffee? Too sweet? She took a sip from the remaining cup in her hands, and immediately made a face that matched Bucky’s - though this time, for the opposite reason.

“Apologies, seems I gave you mine on accident.” she said, offering the cup of black coffee to exchange. He handed her back the original cup and took the second, though he stared at it for a few moments in contemplation. “I don’t have cooties, I promise.”

He looked alarmed, looking at her as if she’d said something offensive. “I think I missed something in translation.” he said, and Mika was acutely reminded that Romanian was not his first language, as much as he tried to act otherwise.

“You know, the things little boys say little girls have, like germs or whatever.” she explained lamely. She didn’t think she’d ever have to explain the definition of cooties. He’d schooled his face back to its neutral state, but the way his eyes relaxed led her to believe that he’d realized what she meant.

“Oh. In my day, that’s what we called the parasites that got stuck in your hair if you were out on the ground for too long.” he explained, finally taking a sip of the coffee she’d handed him. His reaction was much more agreeable this time. She figured by “in my day” he meant his days in the military. This was the first time he’d said something borderline explicitly about his time before Bucharest, and while Mika wanted to question further, she held her tongue.

“Well, there you go. Six o’clock in the morning, and you already learned something new.” she said, smiling. She gestured to the stairs. “Shall we?”

“After you.” he said, nodding towards the stairs as well. Mika started down the steps, careful to keep her movements smooth so as to not spill her drink. The air was chillier than she thought it would be as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, but at least the air was still. They walked in silence save for the occasional sip of coffee and the intermittent sounds of nature. It was a comfortable silence, Mika decided. She still didn’t know Bucky very well, but she knew that he wasn’t someone who appreciated idle chatter. He wasn’t one who needed constant discussion in order to quell any awkwardness. She was usually the opposite, tending to babble when she was nervous or to try and engage her companion. Maybe it was the early hour, or maybe it was the quiet confidence that Bucky carried as he walked beside her, but she didn’t feel the need to converse. The sounds of their footsteps were enough. 

As expected, the gym was nearly empty when they arrived. She handed him a card with a bar code on it, the name “Nicolae Adamescu” stamped on the other side. She have him a conspiratorial grin, nodding her head towards the scanner at the front desk. She casually walked up to it, scanning her card. He followed her lead, placing the card under the red light and waiting for it to beep. The kid sitting at the desk seemed half asleep, his head perched precariously on his hand. He gave them a wave as they walked by, but didn’t really pay much attention to them. 

Besides the two of them and the kid at the desk, the only other patrons were two elderly women in the corner, gossiping away while they slowly pedaled the recumbent bikes. They were too wrapped up in their own world to notice Bucky and Mika slip into the group class room. 

“So, who is Nicolae?” Bucky asked as Mika started pulling mats from the side of the room into the middle. His tone was genuinely curious, and he was looking at the card instead of her, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him.

“Just a friend, no need to be jealous.” she said lightly. He cocked his head to the side.

“Why would I be jealous?” he asked, his face the careful mask of neutrality that he tried (and more often now, failed) to maintain. Mika paused, expecting a different comeback.

“Well, he...I mean, you...um…” she stammered over her words, trying to decide on a response. Bucky tried to keep the indifference on his face, but the corner of his mouth was trembling ever so slightly. He was messing with her. Mika let out a huff. “Do you try to ruin my fun? Or is it just a natural talent?”

“Little bit of both.” he said, finally allowing himself to grin. Not having a retort, she stuck her tongue out at him, pulling the last mat into its place. She pulled her sweatshirt off, tossing it to the side and shaking her arms. She stuffed her hat and gloves into the bag. The chill still lingered, but she knew she would feel better once they started moving. 

“Let’s just get started, before I fall victim to more of your sass.” she said sarcastically. Bucky shrugged, but she thought he looked rather proud of himself. He carefully pulled open his backpack, gently extracting a red journal from the depths. He turned to a page carefully marked with a green tab, his blocky handwriting systematically painting the paper. “Wow, very organized.” Mika said, impressed. She hadn’t thought he’d take their little lesson that seriously.

“I have trouble remembering things sometimes.” he murmured, but he didn’t look concerned about it. He said it more matter-of-fact than anything. Mika once again felt the heat rising on the back of her neck, but she cleared her throat and ignored the chagrin. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something to say, but luckily Bucky beat her to it. “Have you done any type of fighting before?”

She paused, trying to think of how to answer. “Minimally. My older sister taught me some things a few years ago, but...it didn’t exactly stick.” she explained. Bucky nodded.

“What did she teach you?” he followed up. Mika thought for a moment, trying to remember the things she’d walked through in their living room back home. 

“Um...well, she taught me how to throw a punch,” she started.

“That one stuck.” Bucky said, one corner of his mouth lifted. She suddenly remembered the time she  _ almost _ punched him. 

“Yea, I had that one down.” she agreed. “There were a couple kicks...but I honestly don’t remember them.” She looked at the floor instead of at him. She couldn’t believe she’d let that valuable information and time slip away from her. She suddenly felt very weak and insecure, especially under his steady gaze. It made her anxious. 

“Those sound like offensive moves, they’re assuming you’re face to face with your enemy.” he said. He pulled his jacket off, laying it delicately next to hers so that they weren’t touching. “You want more defensive moves, where you can use your whole body and the enemy’s weaknesses to get free.”

“Yea, I guess I don’t need to start any fights.” she said. When she originally asked him for lessons, she figured it would be more like the kickboxing class she used to take. Apparently, Bucky’s knowledge went deeper than she realized. “Just finish them.”

He gave her another grin. “Exactly.” He pulled the glove off his right hand, stuffing it in his back pocket. The left hand stayed covered, and he slid the top half of it into his front pocket of his jeans for good measure. “You’re strong, but more than likely the enemy is stronger than you. So, what would you do if I grabbed your wrist?” He reached his hand out, hesitating for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but held it back. Mika reached forward, placing her wrist in his palm. He held it very lightly, as if he was afraid to touch her. 

“Is that how tight you’re holding on? Easy.” she said, twisting her arm and easily breaking free of his hand. She regained a little bit of her confidence. He gave her a smirk that bordered on mischievous. 

“That works, if someone isn’t trying.” he said. Mika’s jaw dropped, but she snapped it shut before he could notice. So much for building confidence. He held his hand out, once again asking permission. He looked more like he was requesting a dance, rather than to teach her fighting. This time, his grip was a little tighter. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was noticeable. 

Mika twisted her wrist again, but his hand stayed in the exact same spot. She furrowed her brows, twisting harder. Again, his hand stayed in the same place. She pulled, pushed, twisted, and spun every which way she could think of, trying to free herself from his grasp. She was getting a little anxious, her confidence sinking even lower. She let out a noise of frustration, which was the first thing that caused him to let go. His eyes looked apologetic, but she spoke before he could say anything.

“Okay, you made your point. So how do I get out of that?” she asked. She felt frustrated - not with Bucky, but with herself. She should be able to do better than this. He held his hand out, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to give him her wrist again or to grab his. She held out her hand and let him make the next move, which was to lightly close his fingers around her wrist again. 

“Pull me towards you, and grab your fist with your other hand.” he said. She followed his instruction, pulling just hard enough to feel resistance from him. She made a fist, holding onto it with her opposite hand. “Now you have a closed chain. Bring your elbow up, and use your core and legs to pull out of it.” She did as he said, and was surprised at how easily her wrist broke free. She stood up quickly, looking at Bucky out of the corner of her eye.

“Did you let me out of that?” she asked suspiciously. He perked an eyebrow. 

“I wasn’t holding as hard as I can, but I wasn’t trying to make it easy.” he replied. He held his hand out again, but didn’t reach for her wrist. She wondered if he was going to silently ask for permission every time. “Here, try again.”

She placed her wrist in his hand, noticing that he was holding a little tighter this time. She slowly moved through the technique, trying to commit the instructions to memory. She had to put a little more force into the move this time in order to free herself.

“That felt better.” she said, and he nodded in agreement. Again, he held his hand out. Again, she put her wrist in it, his fingers tightening ever so slowly. She went to make her move again, but this time, he stopped her halfway. 

“Your elbow needs to be higher.” he said. His prosthetic hand left its pocket for the first time, and he gently touched her elbow to show where it needed to be. With the glove on, she really couldn’t tell the difference. “There. That gives you a more longitudinal force.”

“Got it.” she said, glad to have the instruction. They kept going through it, time and again, until she felt confident in the motion. She would still need more practice, but it was a start. “Should I...try it with the other hand?”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a while, and she was almost expecting smoke to start coming out of his ears from his mind working so hard. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times before taking a slow, deep breath. “I don’t know if I trust this hand that much.” he said, referring to his metal prosthesis. Mika had to keep herself from smacking her palm to her forehead.

“What about reaching across?” she asked quietly. She felt bad for insinuating that he had to use his left hand. His expression changed, as if he hadn’t even thought of that option.

“The angles would be wrong. But for the sake of practice, it will work.” he said decisively. He held his hand out again, and this time she put her right wrist into his palm. As he’d expected, it was hard to move correctly given their awkward position, but they managed to get a few rounds in so she could get the hang of it. Given the reaches and how they were situated, the move actually tangled her further with him rather than creating space, so she tried to focus on the technique rather than her actual success with the motion.

“Out of curiosity, what should I do if they grab across like this?” she asked. His face sank into an expression of concentration, his hands miming out the action. 

“Pull up and out, then use your other hand here while you turn and break their wrist.” he said. Mika’s eyes widened.

“Whoa, ‘break their wrist’? I’m strong, but I don’t think I’m that strong.” she said.

“You’re stronger than you realize.” he said, his face very sincere. She held his gaze for a moment before he dropped his eyes, shuffling his feet for a moment. “Here, try it.”

She put her wrist in his hand, trying to follow his (vague) instructions. He shook his head, telling her to go back to her original position. She moved back, and he pushed her hand the way he wanted her to turn. He paused, flexing the fingers of his prosthetic limb a couple times before reaching slowly for her other hand. He showed her how to drive her hand into his wrist, then gently touched her hip to get her to drive with her legs. She tried the action again, but he still was not satisfied with the way she pushed with her free hand. She gave it another go, but he told her she wasn’t using her legs enough.

“Can you just show me?” she asked. He shook his head.

“No.” he said curtly. She didn’t know why she was still surprised by his short responses.

“Why not? The visual will help me learn faster.” she pointed out.

“I’d rather not break your wrist.” he stated, as if the answer were obvious. She scoffed.

“You won’t hurt me.” she said confidently. He let out a humorless laugh of his own.

“You have more faith than me.” he replied. She remembered a few minutes earlier, when he’d mentioned that he didn’t trust his prosthetic arm, and once again internally smacked herself. She scolded herself to be more cognizant of what he was saying, and how she responded. Bucky was always honest with her, but he held himself back from saying everything he was thinking. She knew if she paid just a little better attention, she could probably fill in the blanks. 

“Walk me through it, once more.” she said. She was determined to get this right, to show him that she could do it. She wanted to show  _ herself _ that she could do it. She was slowly recovering from what happened to her, but embers of anger burned deep in her heart. She wanted to be her own hero next time. 

She put her wrist in Bucky’s hand time and again, carefully walking through his procedure and adjusting as he instructed. She still wished she could see him perform it, but based on how delicately he moved his left arm, how hard he seemed to concentrate to not hold her wrist too tight, she understood why he wouldn’t.

“I think you’ve got it.” he said, after her probably hundredth attempt. “Try it faster now.”

“What?” she asked, taken aback.

“Try and really get out.” he said, as if he hadn’t just taught her a technique to break a wrist.

“But what if I hurt you?” she said. He let out the closest thing to a laugh that she’d heard from him.

“You won’t hurt me.” he said, grinning in a borderline impish manner. It was if he was sharing a private joke, but she wasn’t in on it. “Go on, try it.” he said, and once again, he held his hand out.

“Okay, but I’m not paying your hospital bills if I shatter your arm.” she said lightly. He kept his grin, holding her wrist a little tighter than he had before. Mika gave an experimental tug, and his grip held fast. She hesitated, still afraid to injure him. In an effort to provoke her, he kept his grin and started pulling her towards him. She resisted, digging her heels into the floor, but he kept steadily pulling, as if he were a conveyor belt. With one final breath, she pulled her arm back, rotating with her body as she sent her hand just behind his. She didn’t connect quite like the wanted to, and her balance was off, but she was pleasantly surprised when her wrist broke free of his hand. She was not so pleasantly surprised by the shift in gravity as she felt herself heading towards the floor. 

Bucky’s left hand shot out to catch her, his fingers clamping around her upper arm. She hadn’t been able to feel the metal earlier, but she certainly felt it now as it pinched her skin. She let out a noise of shock as she was righted, both feet firmly planted on the floor. Bucky instantly let go, taking a few steps back so quickly that she wasn’t sure she’d seen him do it.

“I’m sorry.” he said. His neutral mask had cracked, showing an inkling of despair underneath. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” he was clenching and unclenching his fists, his eyes colored with concern. He didn’t step nearer to her, though the way he stood said he wanted to - he kept the space between them as if there were something to fear from the closeness.

“I’m fine, really. It just surprised me is all, didn’t hurt a bit.” she insisted. She wanted desperately to rub the skin where he’d grabbed her, but held herself back. She didn’t want to make him any more distraught than he already was. “See? Look. Not even a bruise.” she said, decisively stepping towards him and showing her arm. He put one foot back, but otherwise didn’t make a move. His breathing was slow, as if he were trying to control it. Mika gave him her most award winning smile, trying to convince him that he hadn’t hurt her in the slightest, even if she could still feel the ghosts of his fingers around her arm. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” he whispered. The sun was starting to peek through the windows, though there was still no foot traffic on the sidewalk outside.

“I agree, I’m starving. What are we doing for breakfast?” Mika said. She stretched her arms over her head, finding that her muscles were actually pretty tired from their work this morning. She went and grabbed her sweatshirt, pulling it on. Bucky stood rooted to the same spot, his expression one of vague uncertainty. She picked up his jacket, handing it out to him. “What? You should realize by now that I center my life around food.”

“It occurred to me.” he said. He still hadn’t moved, and slowly reached out to take the jacket from her. He seemed afraid to touch her again. 

“Smart man. So, what shall it be? Breakfast is the least I can do, after your help this morning.” she said. She grabbed her bag, not bothering to replace her hat and gloves. She did pull out the water bottles, holding one in Bucky’s direction. He gingerly took it from her, nodding his thanks.  

“I’m fine. Thank you.” he said quietly. He still hadn’t moved from his spot, just watching her move. Mika felt bad - he really hadn’t hurt her, and besides, it was an accident. Accidents happened. She didn’t know how to make him feel better; her initial reaction to her friends being upset was physical affection, but she knew that would just make him even more uncomfortable. She didn’t know if verbal affirmation would help, but figured that it was her best option at this point.

“Please? I’d really like it if you joined me.” she said, fixing him with her most innocent gaze. “Even if it’s just for coffee back at home.”

As per usual, he took a few moments to respond. Mika wondered what went on in his head that he took such lengths before speaking. He had his moments of quick wit and casual responses, but once the conversation was anything of substance, he always chose his words incredibly carefully.

“Coffee sounds good.” he said finally. She smiled brightly.

“Perfect! Let’s go, before my stomach eats itself.” she said. He nodded, slipping his jacket on.  He finally moved from his cemented spot, putting his journal back in his backpack and following her towards the exit. Once they were on the sidewalk outside, she purposefully slowed so that he was walking beside her. He still seemed conscious of the moment they had earlier, carrying himself stiffly and purposefully keeping his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. She tried to appear as relaxed as possible, trying to tell him through her body language that he hadn’t hurt her, and that she wasn’t afraid of him. She tried to think of something - anything - to say that might ease the tension, but nothing came to mind. He seemed to ease up on himself as they walked, his shoulders loosening and his steps becoming less robotic. He even let his right hand fall from its position in his jacket pocket, letting it casually swing as he moved. The left one stayed firmly in its place. 

She dug through the pockets of her bag once they reached the front doors, but she couldn’t find the cool metal of her keys. She let out a groan, putting her hands over her eyes for a moment.

“No keys?” he asked. She could actually hear just a little bit of amusement in his voice. 

“They’re right in their little spot on the island.” she said, pulling her hands away. He was giving her the face that he often used when he thought something was funny, but was trying really hard not to show it. He pulled his own keys out of his pocket, scanning them to unlock the front doors before holding one of the doors open for her. “My knight in shining armor.” she said, before realizing that he may not appreciate the comment. Luckily they had to climb the stairs, so she didn’t have to look at him.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” he said, the plates of his prosthetic clicking as he adjusted his arm. 

“You are missing the horse. And possibly a sword.” she said. “Although, I could be wrong. Do you have a sword in your apartment?”

“Not a sword, no.” he said, actually letting out the smallest chuckle.

“Not surprised. You seem like one of those guys who’s prepared for everything. Like Mary Poppins, but like...if she had a love child with GI Joe.” she said, laughing at her own joke.

“I don’t know who either of those people are.” Bucky pointed out. He seemed more confused by her odd references than offended.

“Dammit Bucky, what am I gonna do with you?” she said with a fake sigh of exasperation. She looked back to see him shrug in response. He wasn’t quite watching her, he seemed to be more focused on the back of her legs. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“Trying to make sure you don’t fall.” he replied, making her bust out laughing.

“Never heard that one before. Good cover, though.” she said. She turned back again to see his brows furrowed.

“But that’s really…” he stopped, and she saw on his face that he realized she was kidding. She pretended to fall back, and in a second his hand was on her back, pushing her gently back onto her feet as he looked gave her a side-eye.

“You are something else.” she said, shaking her head as they reached the top floor. She pulled two bobby pins out of her hair, kneeling in front of her door. A moment later, she noticed that she couldn’t feel Bucky’s presence behind her, and she turned to see him slowly moving towards his own door. “Ah ah, you said you would have coffee with me. You gotta be a man of your word.” 

“As you wish.” he said, taking one step closer to her. He still kept that respectful distance between them. 

“So you’ve seen  _ The Princess Bride _ ?” she asked excitedly, the lock in her door clicking open finally. He gave her a confused look.

“No?” he replied, unsure. She let out another sigh.

“I swear.” she said to herself. She gestured for him to come in, dropping her bag and kicking her shoes off. She ambled into the kitchen, turning her coffee maker back on and turning some music on via her phone and the speakers on the window sill. He was still by the door, eyeing her pile of shoes. “You can leave yours on, that’s just a habit of mine.” she said. He nodded, stepping further into her apartment. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Mika’s heart went out to him - it was moments like these that she really realized his situation. She didn’t know what she would do, if she was alone in a new city, a new  _ country _ even. She put a mug under the coffee spout, then went a cleared off one of the bar stools at her island while it poured. She gestured for him to sit, and he followed her instruction. 

“Thank you.” he said as she put the mug in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it. It really is the least I could do.” she said, putting another mug under the spout and a new pod in the machine. Once her mug was full, she brought it to the island, leaning on her elbows so that they were across from each other. “Thank you, again. For helping me. On more than one occasion.”

“You’re welcome.” he said formally. She realized she’d given him a mug with flowers painted all over it; it looked out of place with his strong countenance. The picture made her want to laugh, but she held it in. “You did well today. You’re a quick learner.”

She rose her eyebrows, surprised at the comment. “Thanks. Helps to have a good teacher.” she said. She got the feeling that he didn’t hand out compliments very often.

“Your sister wasn’t helpful?” he asked. Mika gave a humorless laugh.

“No, Raisa was not quite as patient as you are.” she said, remembering the nights in the living room - and the verbal fights that came afterwards. She knew her sister was just trying to help them, but they often had trouble communicating. “She was very...passionate. And expected perfection.”

Bucky nodded. “The toughest teachers often do.” he said. He looked down, his eyes showing that he was in the place where his mind wandered. He shook his head, looking back up to her. “Where did your sister learn?”

Mika knew Bucky was just making conversation, that he didn’t realize exactly what he was asking. She really did enjoy his company, and didn’t want to scare him by getting overemotional. She swallowed, trying to make her voice light. “She was in the military, special forces. I don’t know exactly where she worked, it was some sort of international thing. When she got out, that’s when she decided me and Nicoletta needed to learn. I think she just needed a project of some sort.”

He nodded, as if it was an expected answer. Then came the question she was dreading. “Where is she now?” he questioned. His voice was soft, as if he already knew the answer.

“She’s, um,” she cleared her throat, taking a long sip of coffee. “she’s no longer with us.” 

Bucky looked down at his cup, the sadness the most transparent expression she’d ever seen on his face. “I’m sorry.” he whispered. She nodded.

“Thank you.” she said. They were silent, and for the first time that day, she felt uncomfortable with it. She needed to change the subject. She thought of asking about his siblings, but remembered how vehemently he’d told her that he never went back home. Talking about his past was not something that would improve their situation. She cleared her throat again. “What are your plans for today? Now that you’ve gotten your workout  _ and _ good deed in for the day?”

“Groceries. Some reading. I’ve got work tonight.” he said, going through the checklist in his mind.

“Sounds like you’ll need a nap, too.” she said. He shook his head.

“Not much of a napper.” he replied.

“That’s a shame, I find naps to be one of life’s greatest treasures.” she said, finishing her coffee and rinsing her mug out. He finished his as well, delicately handing her the mug. 

“Thank you again, for the coffee.” he said, going to the door. It was sudden departure, but Mika didn’t mind. This was possibly the realest conversation they’d had, and it was a lot to deal with so early. 

“Thanks again for your help.” she replied. “Do you...can we do this again next week? Please?”

He paused by the door, staring for a moment. “Sure.” he finally said, giving her a definitive nod.

“You are the best!” she sang, feeling relieved. “So I’ll see you next week, if not before then.”

He nodded again. “Next week.” he reiterated, opening her door and slipping out into the hall. The door was nearly silent when he shut it behind him. She could barely hear through the thin walls as he walked across the hallway and let himself in to his own apartment. 

Mika took a deep breath, trying to calm the jittery feeling in her stomach. She pulled her phone to her, opening her Facebook and going to her sister’s page. She felt like a dumb girl in a cheesy movie, but she didn’t care. It had been a long time since she’d seen her face. Messages from months and years ago were plastered on her Wall, the authors detailing how much they missed her. Mika finally let one tear fall, brushing it away as quick as it came.  _ Trying to make you proud _ , she thought to herself. She wasn’t sure if she believed her sister could hear her or not, but she still found herself talking to her every now and then. She shook her head and closed the app, pulling herself back before she got too sad. She went to call her younger sister, but figured she would still be asleep. She settled for opening a text, sending a quick message to her.

_ Miss you. Love you. _


	6. Taking Root

_ Click-click-click. Whoosh. Thunk. Click-click-click. Whoosh. Thunk. _

Bucky idly paced across his apartment, tossing and catching the last apple from the third bag he’d bought. His journal was in his other hand, open to the page with his written plan. Since they’d gone out of order last week, he needed to revise it for tomorrow. He’d taught Mika a basic move, but to do anything more advanced, she needed more foundational strength. He obviously wouldn’t put her through the training that he went through, but he could take aspects of it and modify them. He paused, holding the apple lightly as he thought. She needed the Reward Game. He eyed his prosthetic arm, the metal glinting slightly in the low light of his apartment. He’d have to make some alterations of course, but it would teach her to react to the situation and problem solve on a subconscious level. He took a bite of the apple he was holding, noting the pressure feedback from his hand and keeping himself from bruising it. Yes, the Reward Game would do nicely. He looked back at his kitchen island, eyeing the mess scattered across it that used to be a dozen perfect oranges. First, he had to clean. 

He had just gotten the last sticky bit of orange off his counter when it was time to leave for work. He grabbed his jacket and baseball cap, swinging his backpack over his shoulders as he made his way down the stairs. He paused at the door, noticing a woman casually leaning against the railing outside. He recognized her, though it took him a second to realize from where. He opened the door, and the woman gave him a flirty smile.

“Hey there, handsome.” she said, her eyes meeting his.

“Mika’s friend?” he asked, blocking the doorway just in case he was wrong.

“Yea! You...remembered me?” she asked, her demeanor changing slightly. She tilted her head to the side, letting her dark curls fall over her shoulder. 

“Yes.” he said, not knowing what answer she was expecting. She was still smiling. It made him nervous.

“You’re Bucky, right? Her neighbor?” she asked. He moved out the door, noticing how she slyly slid into the opening before it closed and locked on her.

“Yes.” he said again. She asked a lot of questions. He didn’t like it.

“Well, Bucky the Neighbor, we’re going out for drinks tonight. Are you busy? You should come with us!” she said, giving him a bright smile. He’d been better lately about accepting invitations, as long as they came from reliable sources (which, currently, only numbered one). But going out to a bar? With strangers? Who would quickly be impaired by alcohol? 

“Can’t. I’ve got work.” he said. He was going to listen to the alarm bells this time. He turned before she could answer, walking towards the warehouse district.

“Next time then!” she called after him, the cheer never leaving her voice. He didn’t look back or wave, he just continued towards his job. Maybe someday, decades from now, he could accept her invitation. But not tonight. 

The streets were busy as he made his way towards the warehouse district, people milling about for shift change. This was normal, and this was the kind of busy he didn’t mind. People were focused on getting to work or getting home; they weren’t looking too closely at anyone. 

The men he worked with had not rested for the past week, giving him shit about his “meeting a girl” comment every chance they could. He stayed silent most of the time; they could have their fun, he could endure it until they found a new subject to fixate on. 

“Hey, Jones.” Hugo greeted as Bucky put his backpack into his locker and pulled on what little protective equipment they were allotted. “How’s that girl that’s not yours?”

“Haven’t seen her in a week, I assume she’s still breathing.” Bucky quipped.

“You’ve made a bold assumption, Hugo.” Ion said, stepping out from behind the other row of lockers. “I still don’t think this girl is real.”

“As real as yours.” Bucky added, letting one smirk slide out before he went down to their unloading area, proud of the jeers that followed him. He didn’t hear Ion’s response, instead just settling down and getting to work. Slowly, he was getting his groove back.

He didn’t have to work late this time, and thus was actually able to get a few hours of sleep before waking up to meet Mika. Despite the way their training session had ended the week before, he had more confidence going into this one. With the things he had planned this time, the likelihood of something going awry was slim. He had better exercises selected, and knew he had more control over his prosthetic limb. Everything would go according to plan.

Bucky awoke sometime around five. He went through his morning mantra, grounding himself in the present and shaking off any memories that tried to cling to him from his minimal sleep. The night terrors weren’t as frequent as they had been, but he still dreamed in flashes of his past, the pain inflicted upon him resonating through his bones even after waking. He shook these feelings off, pushing the sleeping bag off of him and getting up. He ran through the plan for today in his head as he dressed, as well as alternate versions of the lessons. He was starting to understand Mika’s thought process more, so he tried to anticipate any questions she might have, or any directions she might diverge. This would help him keep his mind on track. 

He heard her alarm go off at half-past five, the sounds of her getting ready muffled through the thin walls. He pulled on his clothes, adding an extra layer against the chill that had settled outside. Ten minutes before six, he grabbed his backpack by the straps and stepped into the hallway, locking his door behind him. He stayed in the light near the stairs, once again trying to make sure he was easy to spot despite every instinct telling him to hide in the shadows.

She was a couple minutes early this time, greeting him with that same bright smile she often wore. But something was different. Her lips were a different color. “Good morning. This one is for sure yours this time.” she said, extending a covered cup to him. He could smell the coffee faintly drifting from it. The alarms were going off - poison, bomb, danger -

“Thank you.” he said, taking it gently and decisively taking a sip. Just as the week before, the bitter warmth of coffee filled his senses. Not poison, not this time. Once the threat passed, he found himself still distracted by the color on her lips. He vaguely remembered women changing the color of their lips, but he couldn’t remember the mechanism.

“What, do I have a blemish or something?” she asked, her hand going to her face. She looked self conscious. He must have been staring too long at her mouth. 

“Your lips.” he said, deciding to be honest. It bothered him that he couldn’t remember why they may be a different color. At first he’d thought she’d bitten them, but the color was too dark and too even for that. Her brows furrowed, and she took her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket, presumably looking at her reflection. Realization dawned on her face.

“Oh, makeup. From last night. I didn’t start drinking blood for eternal youth or anything.” she said.  _ That _ was unexpected. Was that a common practice now? Was it a Romanian myth? He racked his brain for an explanation, but came up empty.

“I’m missing a reference again.” he said, hoping she would explain. 

“Oh, no that was just...a weird statement.” she said, shaking her head and putting her phone away. Her cheeks were pink, though they hadn’t started exercising or ventured into the cold yet. She didn’t meet his eyes. “At best, it was a vague vampire implication.”

His heart rate normalized. So, she was just making a joke. It just was a little more nuanced than her usual ones. That made sense. “Oh. Well I at least know what vampires are.” he said, using the most cavalier tone he could manage (it was neutral at best). He hoped it would help quell her embarrassment, though he really couldn’t think of any other way to rectify the situation. It was best to just continue. He gestured for her to go down the stairs, to lead the way. She ducked her head, hiding her eyes as she began the descent. He followed after her, minding each door on each floor as they passed. It was still early in the morning, but every once in a while he could hear the inhabitants as they turned in their beds and shifted in their sleep. 

The cold air outside calmed him. He was used to cold. Cold made sense to him, a familiar embrace. Brooklyn had been cold, he recalled. Not as cold as Siberia or Russia, but cold nonetheless. He could remember the icy streets, holding onto a man’s jacket so he could catch him if he slipped. It was Steve - he’d made a quip about how they didn’t have time to go to the hospital because he’d broken an arm again. 

He almost forgot to keep walking, the clarity of the memory was so stunning. For the first time in recent memory, he felt the pull of friendly affection in his chest. He knew, logically, that he and Steve had been close friends - the museum had told him as much. But this was the only time he’d remembered what it  _ felt _ like. 

Mika held out the gym card again, removing him from his thoughts. When he looked at her, he didn’t feel the same thing as he’d felt when thinking about Steve. But he didn’t feel the nerves from before, or the acidic taste of distrust. She was somewhere in between the two, he couldn’t quite settle. 

Bucky eyed the kid at the desk, but once again the boy couldn’t be bothered by their arrival. The same two ladies as last week pedaled away in the corner, lost in their conversation. He wondered what it was like, to live so blissfully unaware. To not perceive danger at every turn, to not assume any movement in the periphery was an enemy. 

Mika stripped her sweatshirt, hat, and gloves off, tossing them casually on the floor next to her bag before going to get the mats again. She wasn’t like most of the people he’d encountered, they were stuck in their own lives with no concern to the world around them. Mika saw things, noticed things. Things no one else did. But Bucky didn’t think it was a defense mechanism, the way his was. She wasn’t always preparing for a fight, she was just...aware. Once again he was reminded that she was not like any other student he’d had before.

“Do you remember what we went over last time?” he asked quietly, bringing himself back to the task before them. He slipped his metal hand into his pocket; even with the recent improvements, he was still not ready to risk using it. 

“I do! I’ve been practicing all week.” she said, her face proud. He cocked his head to the side, confused. Had she been attacked this week? He hadn’t heard anything or seen any suspicious people around the apartment. Had she been wandering around the less savory parts of town, inviting danger? “Well, not by getting grabbed by random people. Just, you know...practicing the motions.”

“Oh. Okay good.” he said, his heart rate decreasing and his mind quieting. Good, so she wasn’t overconfident and looking for trouble. But she still needed to practice. He held his hand out, once again asking permission before touching her, waiting for her to initiate physical contact. “Let’s see it.”

“Like, right now?” she asked, her eyes wide. He felt the corner of his mouth raise at the comical expression, at the way her arms dropped as her confidence wavered. She shook her hands out and moved her legs, as if she were trying to warm up. He wondered if she was cold in here as well. Determination showed in her eyes as she put her hand out, gently resting her wrist in his palm. Her eyes never left his as he gently closed his fingers, once again a little surprised at the softness of her skin. She pulled her hand quickly, completely forgoing the technique he taught her. He didn’t let her get out of his hand, especially once he saw the mischievous expression on her face.

“Nice try.” he said, his smirk growing. It bolstered his morale when she did things like that, joking with him. It reinforced the idea that she was not scared of him. She stuck her tongue out at him, a childish gesture that almost made him chuckle. He raised an eyebrow, challenging her to try it again - the right way. He tried not to think about what would have been done if she was his student in his other life; he was not that person anymore. He wasn’t the Soldier. He was his own Man. He watched as she balled her fist, grabbing it with the other hand and sinking her weight into her legs to pull herself free. The force she exerted was actually rather impressive, as was her form. She was a quick study, that was for certain. 

“See? Told you I’ve been practicing.” she said, smiling brightly at him. She looked very proud of herself, as she should. Her grin was infectious.

“So you have. That was good.” he said, feeling his smile match hers. It was amazing, what happened when people actually wanted to learn what he was teaching, without the imminent threat of punishment. She looked so happy, so confident. He wondered how her other technique would go. “Let’s see the other one then.” 

“Bring it on.” she said, holding her opposite hand out without hesitation. It still surprised him, how easily and willingly she made contact with him. He slowly reached out, clasping his hand around her wrist again. She waited a beat before pulling, trying to twist in the way he told her before. Her weight was more evenly distributed, but she wasn’t using her whole body like she needed to. She was just trying to push with her hand, which may not be enough if her opponent was significantly stronger than her. He let her hand slip from his, though he could have easily maintained the grip. 

“You’re forgetting your core.” he said.  _ And your legs. And your transduction of force.  _

“Dammit.” she swore, making him grin. He liked when she swore; there was something about it that was comforting. She stuck her hand out again, her face set. “Let me try once more.”

“Go through it slowly first.” he advised, taking her wrist. If she didn’t feel how her momentum needed to move through her, then she would never get it quite right. He walked her through the technique again, pointing out the minute changes she needed to make so her strength flowed in one continuous path. She followed his instruction thoroughly, but when she tried to perform the maneuver again, lost her forces as they crossed through her midsection. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to injure her shoulder or her hand by attempting to only use her arm. 

“Shit, I swear I’ve been working on this.” she insisted. She looked anxious, like a student who couldn’t find their homework. He didn’t want her to be anxious, that was not supposed to be the point of these lessons. 

“I believe you.” he said honestly. The movement was definitely smoother than the week previous, but it still wasn’t quite perfect. She needed more practice, and she needed to be stronger in her foundations. She needed to try again. He held his hand out to her, and she quickly gave him her wrist. She stood still for a few moments, and he could practically see her brain working as she thought about what she wanted to do, how she wanted her body to move. She looked to him once more for confirmation, and he gave her a gentle nod to go ahead. She could do this, he knew she could. 

But maybe not today. She let out a noise of frustration, actually stomping her foot. She put her hands over her face for a moment before shaking her arms out, turning to him with an apologetic look on her face. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I really thought I had it down.” she apologized, crossing her arms across her chest. She looked small and fragile, her face disappointed. He felt a stir in his chest as actual emotional concern flickered. The feeling was weak, but it was there. 

“You’re doing fine. Let’s try a different exercise.” he stated, hoping to assure her. He didn’t like that she was frustrated with herself. It didn’t sit well. A change in pace would help distract her, and the Reward Game would do that, as well as teaching her postural awareness and core control. 

“But I haven’t mastered the first one.” she said, tilting her head to the side. Good, she was already distracted. 

“We’ll come back to it.” he said. This gave him a good excuse to teach her the things she needed to know before performing the more complex movement. “Lay on the floor.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Not suspicious, per se, but confused. “Okay.” she said after a moment, slowly lowering herself down until she was flat on her back. He tried not to hesitate, but was honestly astounded that she trusted him this much. He knelt next to her, trying to keep enough distance between them that she wouldn’t feel claustrophobic. He held up his right hand, making sure the left was still secure in his pocket. 

“Put your fingers against my palm.” he said. She perked an eyebrow, but he kept his face stoic. He found that, with her this close, he could smell the flowers of her shampoo and see the light dusting of freckles across her nose. He hadn’t anticipated this. She gently pressed her fingertips to his hand, her movement smooth and unwavering. She wasn’t nervous. Why should he be? “Now, don’t change that pressure.” 

“What?” she asked. She wouldn’t fully understand until he started the Game. He smirked, wondering how she was going to do. He started moving his hand, her eyes staying on his as her arm followed the path he traced. He moved his hand further away, making her change her concentration to the assignment. Her forehead scrunched in concentration as she moved with him, but her breath stayed even. Even as he had her stand and squat and reach and climb, her breathing didn’t hitch or change. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if she’d played the Game before. 

“Impressive.” he said, dropping his hand after a while. He knew she was athletic and figured she’d take to the movements, but he didn’t think she’d take to it  _ that _ well. It was the first time he’d underestimated her, a mistake he wouldn’t make again. While her breathing was even, her cheeks were flushed, giving away how hard she’d worked. 

“Really?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. She looked like she didn’t quite believe him, but really wanted to. 

“First time I had to do that, I could barely breathe by the end.” he said honestly, recalling the initial session he’d been put through. Granted, it hadn’t been in a nice controlled environment. It had been in a dark Hydra bunker, somewhere in Russia.

“Somehow I have trouble believing that.” she said, though her mouth curled up in a smile. He shrugged.

“May have been a little different.” he added. He hadn’t had a handler for this training. He’d had a giant magnet holding onto his hand, equipped with a shock feature if the pressure on it changed. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe you need to do more yoga.” she said, putting her hands together in front of her chest, as if in prayer. He thought he’d misheard her, or had missed something in translation. 

“What the hell is yoga?” he asked, eyeing her. If it was something that had equipped her to handle the Reward Game, he didn’t know if he could trust it. 

“You’ve never tried yoga?” she responded, her face shocked. Was it a common form of training? “You should come to class with me!”

“Absolutely not.” he said. Class implied a group, which he would  _ not _ be a part of. 

“Why not? It’ll be fun. Get you limbered up a little bit.” she said, shaking her shoulders. ‘Limber’ was not exactly a word Bucky would use to describe himself. He let out a brief chuckle at the thought.

“No thanks.” he replied, seeing now that this wasn’t a serious inquiry. It was polite of her to invite him, but he did not see himself ever being in the proper headspace.

“But you may really like it. Helps keep the mind calm and the body moving.” she continued, smiling brightly at him. While the premise sounded intriguing, he still couldn’t move past the class aspect of it. 

“Not big on groups.” he said, hoping that would curb her enthusiasm.

“Well then I’ll teach you.” Mika she said, as if the answer were obvious. 

“What?” he said, dumbfounded. She wanted to spend  _ more _ time with him? He began to wonder once again if she was some sort of secret agent, bent on gaining his trust. It was the only reasonable explanation for her actions.

“Well it’s only fair. You’re teaching me some self defense, I’ll teach you some yoga.” she said. He felt his face slacken at the response. It seemed, despite every instinct telling him otherwise, Mika was just a genuinely nice person. 

“You don’t have to-”  _ do that, _ he wanted to say. She didn’t realize the debt he owed to humanity, the blood he was trying to wash off his hands. 

“But I want to.” she insisted. “I need to repay you with more than just gratitude and coffee.”

“That’s good enough.” he said. In reality, it was more than enough. He was so far in the red at this point that a life of quiet servitude was about the best he could hope for. But of course, he couldn’t tell her that. Not without divulging every dark and terrible secret that plagued him.

“Bucky!” she let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose. He was immediately concerned, not expecting this reaction from her. She let out a sigh, looking at him with an expression that he couldn’t quite decipher. “Can you please let me be your friend?”

That was not what he was expecting. Many things had been asked of him over the years, but friendship was not one of them. His immediate impulse was to run, to run far away from Mika and Bucharest and Romania in general and go live somewhere where he would never be found. He was supposed to die as a myth, as a horrible ghost story to haunt those with enemies behind the curtain. He wasn’t supposed to have a life, or a friend.

But maybe he could.

This statement shouldn’t have surprised him - after all, he’d come to the same conclusion a week ago, that Mika thought of them as friends. But hearing her say it, out loud, so plainly and emphatically, threw him for a loop. He was supposed to be alone. He was supposed to live and die alone.

But perhaps he didn’t have to.

“Okay.” he said, steeling his resolve. He was tired, so very tired, of everything good being ripped away from him. 

“Good. So after we’re done with your lesson, I’ll give one.” she said. He paused, wondering if that meant their time would be doubled. That would increase the number of people likely to be up and about during their return trip, and when he went to the store for groceries. “It’ll be ten minutes, I promise.” she added.

“Okay.” he said, mollified by her addendum. He could handle ten extra minutes. She looked rather proud of herself as he agreed, standing up taller and giving him a satisfied smile. 

“Perfect. Please, continue.” she said, gesturing for him to move on with the lesson. He paused, trying to remember what was next. They were supposed to review, then play the Reward Game, then...he couldn’t remember what came next. 

He’d accepted his memory lapses a while ago, but it still irked him when it happened. He pressed his lips together, trying to soothe his frustration as he carefully picked up his journal. He thumbed through to the page he was looking for, quickly reading over his list to recenter himself. There was only one thing left on the list for today, but it might take some time. He turned back to Mika, holding his hand out.

“Which hand do you want?” she asked, holding both up. He grinned.

“Both of them.” he said, making her eyebrows raise.

“There is no way you can hold both of my hands with just one of yours.” she said, putting her wrists on his hand. He held one wrist with his thumb and forefinger, and held the other with his remaining fingers. Once again, an emotion stirred in his chest. He couldn’t quite place it, but it made him want to prove her wrong.

“Try it.” he challenged. She eyed him seriously, her lips pressing together as she thought. He could see the wheels turning in her mind again, see her trying to problem solve her way out of it. Good, she was learning that she couldn’t beat him with brute strength. She sank back on her legs, trying to drop her weight. If a normal man had been holding on with one hand, that would have worked. But of course, Bucky was able to keep his hold, barely moving.

“How are you so freakishly strong?” she asked, giving her arms a few more tugs just to see if he would budge.

“Science.” he said, though he kept the explanation at that. He figured  _ I was experimented on by rogue Nazi scientists _ would not be a socially acceptable response. 

“Alright, Mr. Science Man. So how do I get out of this?” she asked. She was getting competitive again. He grinned at her eagerness.

“Bend your elbows to bring yourself closer.” he said. She followed his instruction, stepping closer to him. Once again, he was caught off guard by how close she was, even with a solid half a meter between them. He could smell her shampoo again. He shook his head, refocusing. “Now, you want to kick my knee.”

“I’m not breaking your knee.” she said seriously. He let out an almost-laugh. Even if she somehow had the strength to hurt him, he’d heal within a day.

“You won’t break my knee.” he said, still amused at the idea. She looked at him from the corner of her eye before cautiously reaching with her foot, barely tapping the inside of his knee.

“Right there?” she asked hesitantly. He nodded, even if ideally the pressure was further posterior. For the sake of the exercise, it would work.

“Go on.” he said, still casually holding her wrists. She needed to learn this. She hesitated, trying to get up the courage to try it. She pulled herself toward him perfectly, but slowed down after that, still barely touching his knee with her foot. Her eyes were wide, and she looked as if she were expecting him to fall apart in pain.

“I’m sorry, I know you say I won’t hurt you, but I’m really afraid to.” she said, pulling back. He let go of her wrists immediately, giving her space. He’d never seen her nervous like this, and the fact that it was over the idea of accidentally hurting him was baffling. Even if she were physically able to injure him, he wouldn’t hold it against her. There’s no way she could inflict more pain than he’d already experienced. No one in the past seventy years had cared about his pain. He’d forgotten what it felt like, to have someone concerned about him. 

“I’ll be fine.” he said, as if it were the most factual and logical thing in the world. For all intents and purposes, it was. 

“Is there a way we can practice without me full on kicking you?” she asked. She was wringing her hands, a more advanced nervous tell than what she typically displayed. He thought for a moment; they weren’t going to get anywhere if she was afraid to hurt him, but she wouldn’t know how to injure her enemy and free herself if she didn’t learn the proper technique. He felt his brows knit together as he tried to figure out a way to solve this puzzle.

“You can just place your foot on my knee and lean into it. That’s more what you want to do anyway - kick through completely.” he said finally. That would teach her the weight shift necessary for the maneuver, while also allowing for the control aspect that she desired. And perhaps it would reinforce his strength, so that she would be less concerned about hurting him in the future.

“Okay, but you have to tell me when it’s too much, okay?” she said, giving him one of the more serious expressions he’d ever seen on her. It struck a chord in him, though he didn’t exactly understand why. He wasn’t sure about this whole “feeling emotions” thing. It was easier to navigate social interactions when he didn’t have distinct emotions, as opposed to the thick layer of anxiety that had coated his insides since he’d walked away from Hydra. 

“I will.” Bucky replied, holding his hand out to her. He kept his posture relaxed, though engaged his muscles. The stiller he remained, the more confident she would feel, and the better she would learn. She gave him her wrists, waiting for him to nod and give her the go-ahead. She pulled herself in again, picking her foot up and placing it on his knee. The scent of flowers surrounded him as she leaned into him, and he had to increase his focus to keep his leg from moving. She really was much stronger than she realized.

“Like this?” she asked. He nodded, taking a moment to gather his words before responding. 

“They’ll be surprised, and won’t expect you to go for their legs. Distracting them here will both injure them and get them to let go. The knees are weaker going from side to side, rather than forward and back.” he explained. His hope was, if she ever needed to, she could get the placement more correct. She pushed back, and he released her wrists, once again giving respectable space between the two of them. The floral scent faded. 

“Assuming they’re not super strong like you.” she added resting her hands on her hips and grinning at him.  _ If only you knew _ , he found himself thinking to himself, his mouth breaking into a smirk. 

“They shouldn’t be.” he said. The likelihood of her encountering another super soldier in this lifetime was slim, though technically present. But unless she was involved in things that she had no business being involved in, then he would probably be the only one. He held his hand out again, stopping himself from that trail of thought. It would not do well to dwell on the idea of Mika meeting the other soldiers he’d known. “Try it faster.” 

She nodded, placing her wrists in his hand. She paused for a moment, and he could tell she was walking through the steps of the motion in her head. Good, she was learning to visualize her actions, to feel the movements before she attempted them. This would increase the rate at which she could learn the motor control necessary for the movements to become second nature. She wasn’t impulsively trying to force them. He was more prepared this time as she pulled herself forward and put pressure into his knee, the floral scent that accompanied her swinging hair not distracting him as it had moments ago. She pushed off his knee, this time with a little more force and confidence. 

“That was good.” he said encouragingly. She was taking to this movement much better than the second technique he’d taught her. Her demeanor changed at the compliment; she stood a little taller, her shoulders back a little more. It was one of the few times that he was sure he’d responded to an interaction not only appropriately, but well. She gave him a meek smile, then held her hands out again, asking to try once more. With each repetition, her movements became smoother, more fluid. She was trusting her body - and his - more and more with each recurrence. It wasn’t as difficult for her to switch legs as he thought it would be, and she required even less cuing for form. He found himself wishing he’d started with the Reward Game, figuring building that foundation sooner would have allowed for easier learning of the first techniques. Then again, maybe she needed to see where her weaknesses were in order to focus her practice. He couldn’t be sure - he hadn’t actually ever built a lesson plan before. Hydra’s training could be better described as a “sink or swim” mentality. 

“Now, what do I do if they pull me in too close? And I can’t move my leg like that?” she asked, holding her arms up close to her chest. He could see what she meant, that there wouldn’t be enough space for her to maneuver her leg in the proper direction for force. She was thinking if someone was chest-to-chest with her. 

“Knee them in the groin.” he said shortly. The answer was fairly obvious, given they were assuming her enemies would be male. She perked an eyebrow at him, and he wondered if he accidentally implied that that was next on their docket. It wasn’t a big reach for that progression. But he’d not prepared in any way, shape, or form for such practice. Even if pain didn’t scare him, there was one kind of pain that still gave him pause, no matter how many times Hydra tried to burn it out of him. “I’d rather not practice that.”

Mika laughed, her eyes squinting with mirth as she placed a hand against her chest. He couldn’t help but grin, feeling proud that he was able to illicit that response. “No, no I think we can skip the practice on that one.” she said, her laughter still pervasive through her words. She let out a sigh as her giggles finally abated. “What’s next?”

Bucky paused. Next? He’d forgotten again. He picked up his journal, finding the page he needed and consulting the list. He’d only written three things down for today - review, Reward Game, bilateral wrists anterior approach. They’d gone over all three things for today. Good, perfect timing. Now they could return and he could get his groceries before too many people were out.

“That’s all I have for today. Unless there’s anything else you’d like to do?” he said, looking to her. She smiled in a way that made him nervous.

“Just our little yoga session.” she said cheerily. He gave her a blank look, having almost forgotten their conversation from earlier. He didn’t think she’d been serious. He regretted agreeing to it, not knowing what he was getting into. He felt like ants were crawling up and down his spine and he tried to keep his breathing even. No matter what it was, training had not been a good thing for him in...he couldn’t remember how long. “What, thought I’d forgotten?”

“Hoped you had.” he murmured. His mouth felt dry. He had to remind himself of where he was, and who he was with. Twenty-two minutes ago, Mika had looked panicked because she was afraid to hurt him. She would not ask him to partake in anything knowing it would be harmful.

“Bucky Jones, you’re not getting out of this.” she said, pulling off her socks and shoes. This was the oddest start to training he’d ever seen. The nails of her toes were painted a bright pink, contrasting the burgundy she usually had on the nails of her hands. The mismatching was enough to pull him from the impending panic, but not enough to make him move. “Come on now, you said you would.” 

“So I did.” he said, letting out a breath, willing his shoulders to relax. What had she mentioned earlier? Matching movement with breath. Control. Maybe this could be beneficial to him. He assumed he needed to remove his boots and his socks, which was a very uncomfortable idea to him. But Mika was looking at him expectantly, hands on hips and toes wiggling with their newfound freedom. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket, peeling the glove off. He went to tuck it in his back pocket so he could reapply it after untying his shoes, but decided to leave it off. After all, she’d already seen his silver arm and thought nothing of it. He purposely dropped it on top of his journal. He willed the silver fingers to obey his commands, hoping he wouldn’t fumble with the laces of his boots as he normally did. It made his movements slow, but successful. He felt uncomfortable as the cool air hit his bare feet, but Mika didn’t seem to think anything of it. She simply pointed him to a spot on the mat next to her, looking rather excited about her lesson. He wondered how she was able to prepare without any time to sit and plan.

“So, the key is that your movements are supposed to follow your breath. So breathe in and raise up,” she took a deep breath in, raising her arms in a wide arc until they were above her head. Bucky eyed her, hesitantly putting his hands up in the air. Everything about this felt unfamiliar - not bad, necessarily, but definitely unfamiliar. “It only looks silly if you don’t put in one hundred percent, Bucky.” she scolded, making a jolt go through him.

“Sorry.” he said. She gave her everything for his lessons, he could afford her the same decency. He brought his hands down, then raised them again in a wide arc as she had, breathing in deeply. 

“Then let your breath out, and bring your arms down.” she said, making the motion. He copied it exactly as she’d done. “Good! Again.” 

Breathe in, arms up. Breathe out, arms down. The next round, she had him bend forward at the waist, stretching the back of his legs. Breathe in, halfway up. Breathe out, back down. He thought he was relatively flexible, but when he glanced to make sure his form was proper, Mika had her forehead against her legs, her arms hugging her knees. Clearly she was very practiced in these movements.

Breathe in, hands on the floor, feet out behind him in a plank. Breathe out, lower to the ground. The plates of his arm clicked into place, the gears inside turning with mechanical sounds. Breathe in, move just his chest up. Breathe out, push back, stretching his legs and straightening his arms. It was a vulnerable position, but the gym was still very quiet. He could tell if there were any threats. The metal of his hand wanted to slip against the surface of the mat, but he could tighten the fingers to keep his position. Oddly enough, he didn’t have to work as hard to control the arm with these movements. 

Breathe in, bend his knees. Breathe out, feet back between his hands. Mika made the motions look very graceful, whereas his felt clunky, hesitant. She’d changed her tone of voice with the instruction so it was softer, more even. She took him through the movements again, giving him little tips to make the poses easier. Breathe in, move, hold. Breathe out, move, hold. It actually was quite relaxing, and he found that the errant thoughts constantly running through his head were quieted. After another round, she had him sit with his legs crossed and his arms on his knees. She continued to pace his breathing, having him bring his awareness to different parts of his body. Perhaps yoga wasn’t so bad after all.

Their quiet meditation was interrupted by her stomach grumbling, the growls echoing in the quiet room. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to disrespect the moment. He pressed his lips together, taking another slow breath so he could be sure his voice was steady.

“Maybe it’s time for breakfast.” he said. He kept his eyes closed, but he could hear her moving, fidgeting. 

“I agree.” she said, falling out of the position. He opened her eyes to see her slipping her socks and shoes back on, and grabbed his own. “You’ll stop in for a cup of coffee, yea?”

_ Let me be your friend _ . He paused, his fingers stalling on the laces of his boots. He should decline. He really should. “Sure.” he said, continuing to don his boots. She smiled, hopping up and going to where she’d discarded her cold weather clothes and her bag. He pulled his glove back on, covering the metal of his hand. He turned to see her holding his jacket out to him, her sweatshirt, gloves, and hat already on. He took it with a nod, pulling it on before putting his journal in his backpack and following her towards the exit. 

It was a quiet walk back to their apartment building, the world just beginning to wake up. The first golden rays of sun were peaking between the buildings, bathing everything in a warm light. He didn’t feel the stress he’d felt last week; in fact, he felt more at ease than he had in a long time. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, habits wanting him to go to his door instead of hers. But he waited until she unlocked her door and stepped in before decidedly following her in, closing the door softly behind them. She once again tossed her shoes into the pile and discarded her bag on the dining room table. He took a seat at the bar stool at the island again, deciding that was a safe bet. She turned her coffee maker on before pulling her phone out and somehow getting music to play through some speakers. It seemed she didn’t care for silence.

“Oh, I heard you met Elena again last night.” she said after handing him his coffee. She’d given him the same mug she had last week, with delicate flowers painted on the side. She gazed at him over the rim of her own mug.

“Your friend? Dark, curly hair?” he asked. He knew she was definitely Mika’s friend, as she’d been there the first time they’d truly interacted. He also knew she’d mentioned her name before, but he’d forgotten it. He tried to commit it to memory now. 

“The one and only.” she said, her tone betraying her affection for her friend. She cut herself a piece of some sort of loaf, offering him a slice as well. He shook his head, as he could smell the sugar from where he was sitting.

“Didn't introduce herself. Just invited me for drinks.” he expanded. She nodded, her face saying that she wasn’t surprised at the commentary. Did Elena make it a habit of befriending strangers?

“Yea, that sounds about right.” she said, moving to the same side of the island as him and jumping up to sit on the counter. He tried to hide his surprise that she was willingly sitting so close to him. “You should definitely come out with us sometime.”

“Got work.” he replied, taking a sip of the coffee. He was glad to have the excuse, that way he didn’t have to explain how he would have no idea how to act in a social situation like that. 

“Every night?” she asked, giving him a pointed look. Ah, caught in his equivocation. He should have known better, Mika was too smart to miss that. And too stubborn to let it pass.

“Maybe.” he answered, giving a little bit of tone to it. This kind of conversation was starting to feel familiar -  _ bantering _ was the word he was looking for. This was the way it was, before, when he talked with his friends. 

“Don’t you lie to me,” she said, trying to make a stern face. Even though she was much stronger than she gave herself credit for, it was still comical to see her trying to act tough. “You must have at least one night off.”

She was asking a lot of questions about his schedule. The logical part of his brain knew that she was just making conversation, that she was just trying to gain some insight in the case that she could extend an invitation to him. But the other part of his brain, the part that had been damaged and repaired by Hydra, started feeling paranoid. She didn’t need to know his full schedule. 

“They’re usually during the week.” he said slowly, hoping that she would think that the days weren’t set. Which, technically, they weren’t. 

“Well if you ever have a weekend night off, consider it.” she said. She said it in such a way that he didn’t think she was going to pursue his answer further. “Is it hard, working nights?” she said, and he was grateful for the change in subject. 

“Not really. Don’t really sleep much anyways.” he said with a shrug. Day or night, he tended to be awake. The longer he stayed awake, the less likely he was to have a nightmare. Not to mention, the less time he had to worry about potential enemies finding his location. “Plus, it helps me avoid people.” he added, deciding on a whim to throw in a little extra bit of truth. 

“People are the worst.” she agreed, rolling her eyes for emphasis. He lifted one eyebrow. She seemed to be a generally social person - perhaps not particularly so in the past month, but she was always in and out of her apartment before that. 

“I’m not sure you mean that.” he said, trying to figure out if she was kidding. It sounded like she was kidding, but her face was relatively serious. He couldn’t differentiate her meaning. 

“I like approximately four people in this world. Well, five now. Anyone else is extra.” she replied, gesturing casually towards him with her coffee mug. He felt himself sit up straight, though he hadn’t realized he was leaning against the back of the chair. There it was again, the casual mention of them being friends. Like it was no big deal. Like it didn’t give her concern at all. 

He suddenly felt uncomfortable. Whether she was serious or not, no one had said anything like this to him in...he couldn’t remember when. He knew him and Steve had been friends, the best of friends, but he didn’t remember how or when that friendship had formed. In his head, it just always was. It had been the thing he was most sure about in his life.  _ Till the end of the line, _ that’s what they’d said to each other. It was a given. But this? This relationship with Mika was new, and terrifying. He didn’t have the security of deeply rooted ties. It was still fragile. “Well, I’m glad I can be ranked so highly in this competition.”

“It’s very prestigious. You should be honored.” she said, hopping off the counter and taking her plate to the sink. Again, she said it so cavalierly, unaware of the whirlwind going through his brain. Last week, the idea of a friend had occurred to him. This week, it had been cemented. He waited until she moved from the sink before stepping to it himself, rinsing the empty mug and gently placing it in the sink. She leaned against the island, her mug still in her hands. “Off to get groceries again?”

One of these days, he was going to have to ask if she was telepathic. But he remembered that’s what he’d done last week, and realized that she probably just remembered it from then. “If I hurry, I can get there before everyone else.” he said.

“Well better get going then.” she responded. “Thank you again, for the lesson this morning.”

“Same to you.” he said, moving towards the door. He really did like the yoga lesson, and found that he wouldn’t mind if she expanded on it the next time. If there was, in fact, a next time. 

“Oh! I have something for you.” she said, just as he opened the door. He paused, turning back to her. What could she have for him? 

“What?” he asked, surprised. She grabbed her purse from the floor, rummaging around for a moment. His nerves picked up; he’d not had good experiences with people rummaging in bags with ‘something for him’. She pulled out a small plastic thing, barely a few centimeters long and wide. He’d seen something like it before, and had retrieved a few bloodstained ones. But he didn’t know what they did. It hadn’t been his job to ask questions.

“I put a bunch of movies on a USB for you.” she said, proudly showing the stick to him. Separately, he understood most of the words of that sentence. But put them together, and he had no idea what they meant.

“A what?” he asked. How could a movie be on that little thing? Weren’t they on reels?

“A USB? Thumb drive? You plug it in your computer, it’ll pull the movie files right up.” she explained. Files? Files were wide pieces of paper. He’d retrieved many files before as well. 

“Don’t have a computer.” he said. What would he do with it? Too easy to track. That’s how his targets had been located. 

“What?!” she exclaimed. Her face betrayed her surprise, but it didn’t last long before acceptance set in. “Well, you don’t have a phone, so I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised.” 

“Not big on technology.” he said, shrugging. Technology made it too easy to trace. She held up a finger, asking him to hold on before pulling open a drawer. Once again, he had to keep himself from ducking. She didn’t pull out a weapon, instead she just pulled out another plastic piece and clicked it onto the first one. 

“Here, now you can connect it directly to your TV through an HDMI port.” she said. He pressed his lips together, feeling a slight increase in temperature in his cheeks. Mika was always trying to be a problem solver.

“Don’t have a television.” he said softly. Her reaction made him think he was supposed to feel bad, but her expression was amusing. She let out a noise somewhere between shock and rage, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. It was kind of funny, making her react like this.

“You’re such a hipster.” she said, rolling her eyes. He had no idea what that word meant, and chalked it up to a Romanian colloquialism. “Okay, fine. When’s your next night off?”

A direct question. He could lie, if he wanted to. His training wanted him to. She’d never know the difference. “Tomorrow night. Why?” he asked, deciding to tell the truth. He could feel how stiff his posture was, how suspicious his face must look. But he couldn’t pull it away this time, couldn’t relax the knot between his shoulders. She must have registered his change in demeanor, because she softened, her expression gentler. 

“If you’re not busy, I’d love for you to come watch a movie. We can order food and make a whole night of it.” she said softly. Another invitation. He should turn her down. He should run, and never speak to her or think of her ever again. She was requesting more time with him, alone, in her apartment. In close quarters.  _ Let me be your friend. _

“Okay.” he agreed. He almost didn’t believe the word when it came out of his mouth. But this was the right thing to do. Friends accepted invitations. Friends didn’t worry about spending time together. 

“Excellent! I’ll be home all evening, so you can just come over whenever.” she said, once again giving him a dazzling smile. She was trying to be casual.

“Six o’clock?” he asked. He needed a time, needed a schedule. He couldn’t just come to her place of residence at any time. He needed something he could write down.

“Works for me.” she said. She looked like she wanted to be more expressive, but was holding herself back. He felt bad that she felt the need to do that, but was grateful for it. The idea of the upcoming interaction was already starting to build the anxiety in his chest. Training? Sure, he could handle that. Physical work? A good distractor. But the idea of simply sitting and watching a movie felt completely alien to him. 

“Until then.” he said. He needed to go. He needed to do something trivial, something routine. He needed to go get groceries. He gave her a nod and ducked into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He didn’t stop in his apartment, he simply went down the stairs. He could already see the few pedestrians on the street below, making their way to wherever they were going. They wouldn’t notice him.

“Excuse me? Excuse me, please! We’re lost, we need some help.” a girl’s voice drifted across the street. Bucky glanced to the other sidewalk, seeing a dark haired girl and a girl with purple hair trying to get the attention of anyone around them. Everyone who passed them gave them odd looks, though he couldn’t see a reason for it. Sure, they looked a little tired, but otherwise not out of the ordinary. He ducked his head down and kept on his way, figuring someone else would stop and assist them. He could hear the dark haired girl as she continued to reach out to the people passing by, her voice getting more frantic. He heard the other girl cut in, saying they should go back to the convenience store and ask again to charge their phones. 

Bucky stopped, realizing why no one was paying attention to the girls. They were speaking French. He looked at them out of the corner of his eye, trying to decide what to do. On one hand, it would be the good, right thing to stop and help them. On the other hand, that would be a very much unplanned social interaction, after Mika had added variables to their interaction this morning. The brunette looked like she wanted to cry; the purple haired girl looked annoyed. His training pulled at him, telling him to keep walking. They would figure out. It was unnecessary contact. He did not train for unnecessary contact.

Hydra didn’t care how often he fell down, only if he got back up. And he always got back up, until he physically wasn’t capable. That’s what built his strength. They praised his stubbornness. Training wanted him to run. He wanted his training to fuck off.

It would be quick, he decided. He pushed his way across the street and towards them, ignoring the way his muscles wanted to move the opposite direction. 

“Excuse me, do you need some help?” he said when he was a few feet away from them, switching to French. The brunette squealed, her eyes lighting up as she recognized the language. Even the other girl perked up, looking hopeful.

“Thank God! Finally!” the brunette said. “We just got in this morning, and our phones are dead and the taxi guy dropped us off at the wrong place and-”   
  
“We can’t find our hotel.” the other girl interrupted, putting her hands on her friend’s arms. 

“What hotel are you looking for?” Bucky asked, trying to maintain a respectable distance between them while still being close enough for them to hear him. She showed him her hand, where she’d written the hotel name. Apparently she was afraid to try and pronounce it. 

“Do you know where it is?” the girl with the purple hair asked. He nodded; he learned where most everything was in a ten-kilometer radius. 

“You want to go back up that way until you find a bank with a lion statue in front of it. Turn right, and it’ll be about a kilometer down on the left. It has a green awning in front of it.” he explained, gesturing in the direction they wanted to go. 

“Turn right at the bank with the lion, look for a green awning on the left.” the brunette repeated. Bucky nodded. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good one.” he said, pushing past them and continuing his trek towards the store. He kept his head down and ignored them as they called after him, not wanting to draw out this interaction any longer. His mouth felt funny from speaking French after speaking Romanian for so long, but not necessarily in a bad way. It just worked a part of his brain (and body) that had been idle for a long time.

The store was quiet as he entered, and he was glad that at least one thing was going as planned today. He went through his usual aisles, gathering the various prepackaged foods he usually bought. He paused before going to the checkout counter, grabbing another bag of oranges and adding it to his pile. 

There was still a lot of work to do.


	7. Chocolate Coating Makes It Go Down Easier

Mika had always loved fantasies. As kids, she and her sisters would run around their yard, pretending to be the Gotham City Sirens and messing with the neighbor boys. They dressed up as the Three Hunters from  _ Lord of the Rings _ for Halloween, though Nicoletta had complained that she didn’t want to be Gimli, even though she was the smallest. They’d all had lightsabers when the new  _ Star Wars _ films had come out, and she was already planning her trip to Berlin next year so she and her sister could see the new film together. All these stories were grand, and complicated, and full of wonderful heroic details. 

And they would all be way too much for Bucky to start with. She didn’t doubt his intelligence - in fact, she had the sneaking suspicion that he was one of the smartest people she’d ever met. But considering the last movie he’d seen may or may not have been the  _ Wizard of Oz _ , she figured she should start with something less fantastical.  _ Star Wars _ could come later. 

She’d been idly considering her dilemma when it occurred to her that, maybe, she should clean her apartment. 

She had been quietly sitting on the couch, trying to figure out which movie they should watch and thinking about working out while really just clicking “next episode” on Netflix. But then she noticed the pile of shoes that had collected next to the door. And the random jackets scattered throughout the tiny apartment. And the various hardware she’d been working on scattered across the coffee table. How long had her apartment been like this? Was it like this when Bucky came over yesterday? Did he notice? Of course he noticed. He noticed  _ everything _ . The thought was so embarrassing that she nearly melted into the floor right there.

The chagrin alone was enough to get her off of the sofa and running around her apartment like a mad woman, gathering dirty clothes and tossing them in one corner while trying to figure out how to best organize all the little things on the table that she needed to keep for work. That’s when she spotted the dishes in the sink, and the pile of mail on the end table, and the way her blankets and pillows on the couch were in a wild array. For a moment, all she could do was stand in the middle of the floor and be completely overwhelmed with everything she needed to do. She took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts in her brain. It wasn’t a big deal. Bucky was just a new friend, and he seemed to be one of the least judgemental people she knew. It wasn’t near as big of a thing as she was making it out to be.

But that didn’t change the fact that she should probably pick up a little bit. 

Step one, shoes. They needed to be in her closet, not in a pile next to the door like some sort of neanderthal. Step two, laundry. It didn’t need to be done, but it needed to be in the basket. And the basket also needed to be in the closet. Step three, the mail. It could just...go in the closet. To be dealt with later. Step four, the gadgets. They could go into a tupperware. And the tupperware could go in the closet. The last step was the dishes, which actually needed to be dealt with and not just tossed into the closet with the rest of the shameful habits she’d developed while living alone. 

She felt better now that her living space was more organized. Now she could proudly have company in her home for more than a few minutes. She checked the clock to see that she still had over an hour until it was movie time; she could clean more, but really she decided she’d rather bake something. She pulled out her phone, resting her elbows on the kitchen island as she scrolled through her saved recipes. There had to be something that was sweet, but not  _ too _ sweet, that maybe Bucky would like. 

She settled on almond cookies, figuring that the light nuttiness might cut through the sweetness enough for him to enjoy them. It might be a bit of a reach, but maybe it would work. She gathered her ingredients, carefully measuring out what she needed and putting it together. Usually this recipe was reserved for springtime brunches, but she figured it would work for a winter treat. 

With the dough set to chill in the fridge, she took a moment to order pizza for the two of them. She stared at the online ordering system for a long time, trying to decide what toppings Bucky would like. She went back and forth with different combinations, eventually deciding that she couldn’t go wrong with cheese. All else failed, they could toss whatever they could find in her fridge on top of the cheese and bake it a little extra. 

Once she’d accomplished that task, she pulled the cold dough back out, tossing some flour on the island before putting the dough on top. She carefully rolled it out to the desired thickness, humming along to the song playing through her speakers. There were many options for cookie cutters in the drawer, but she refrained from the snowflakes and stars, opting instead for a simple, perfect circle. She gently cut them out, placing them on a baking sheet before sliding them into the oven. The whole batch wouldn’t be necessary for the two of them (or, worst case scenario, just one of them), so the extra dough was wrapped in cellophane and placed into the freezer for a rainy day. Or a sunny day. Or any day when someone deemed cookies were necessary. 

At promptly six o’clock, a soft knock echoed through the apartment. It was so quiet, Mika wasn’t completely sure she heard it, and she went to the door to look without bothering to put down the hot tray of cookies. She checked through the peephole, seeing Bucky standing a couple feet away from her door, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. 

“Hello!” she greeted lightly, opening the door and leaving it ajar, gesturing for him to follow her inside. He stepped in, closing the door softly. She actually didn’t realize her door could close that quietly. 

“Are you busy? I can come back in a little bit.” he said, pointing to her apron and tray. She waved him off, setting the tray down on the island. 

“No no, you’re right on time.” she replied, grabbing a spatula from a drawer and carefully moving the cookies to a plate. “Here, maybe third time’s the charm, hm?”

He eyed the plate, as if expecting the confections to explode or something. “What are they?” 

“Almond cookies. Nothing crazy.” she answered, picking one up and biting into it herself. It was still warm, the soft texture gently melting in her mouth. It was one of the better batches that she’d made. “Go on, try one. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t like it.”

He eyed her suspiciously, carefully reaching out and taking one from the plate. He held it for a moment before taking a small bite. His brows furrowed, and for a second Mika thought she had been victorious. But then he gave her a vaguely apologetic smile. “I like the texture, but it’s too sweet. I’m sorry.”

“Damn, I was so close. Oh well, more for me.” she said, plucking the sweet from his grasp and finishing it off for him. Another knock echoed from the door, this one a little more emphatic. Bucky looked very alarmed, but Mika clapped in excitement. “Oh! Pizza’s here!” 

She took a brief moment to check through the eyelet in the door before opening it again, handing the kid in front of her a few bills in exchange for the large box in her hands. She thanked her and told her to keep the change before ducking back into the apartment. Bucky had moved from his position, and was instead leaning very casually against the wall next to her window. She gave him a look out of the side of her eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of this. He never did anything without purpose.

“What are you doing over there?” she asked, putting the pizza on the kitchen island and going to grab plates.

“Nothing.” he said, again trying very hard to appear casual and at ease.

“Were you planning to make a break for it if that wasn’t the pizza girl?” she asked, nodding her head towards the window. He looked like a kid caught someplace he shouldn’t be.

“...No.” he answered, though it wasn’t completely convincing. 

“Uh huh.” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm. “You were gonna leave me for dead, I see how it is.” 

“If it were someone unsavory, they’d be distracted by my exit from the window, allowing you ample opportunity to escape.” he said. He tried to keep his tone serious, but she could see the corner of his mouth fighting to turn up. 

“You are so full of shit.” she said, laughing. His face broke at that point, a grin finally showing through. “Come get some pizza before I decide not to share.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” he said, taking the plate she offered him and eyeing the pizza. 

“I didn’t know what toppings you’d want, so I just went with the safest option.” she explained, putting two slices on her plate and pretending that was all she was going to eat. He shrugged in response, picking up two slices as well.

“I eat most anything, really.” he said, though his brows were furrowed as he examined the pizza.

“You look puzzled.” Mika said, pouring a glass of water and handing it to him. 

“Isn’t the sauce supposed to go on top?” he asked. She cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out how to answer him.

“Um, I’ve never seen it that way.” she said, getting water for herself before going over to the couch. “Maybe you just went to special pizza places?”

“Huh. Guess it was a New York thing.” he said, shrugging and seemingly accepting this answer. This time she was the one who paused. This was only the second time since she’d known him that he’d mentioned New York, the first time making his feelings quite clear on the subject. Either he was becoming more comfortable with her, or he was maybe coming to terms with his past. Based on what she knew about him, she assumed it was the former.

Bucky took a long moment before sitting next to her on the couch, carefully resting his glass on the coffee table and making sure there was the maximum amount of space between them. Mika curled up in the other corner, hoping that this would make him feel more comfortable. She noticed how he was eyeing the plate of pizza on his lap, and took an emphatic bite of hers before setting it down and retrieving the remote for the television. As she settled back in the cushions, he picked up a piece and folded it by the crust, allowing him to eat it using just his right hand. A genius move, really. She thought to comment on it - being able to eat pizza with one hand could potentially be life changing to her - but realized he probably wouldn’t like that she’d noticed a habit of his. In fact, she’d learned a long time ago that most people didn’t like when she pointed out their habits. 

“For your viewing pleasure, tonight I have chosen the American classic from 1987,  _ The Princess Bride _ .” she said dramatically, bringing up the digital copy of the film. Bucky’s eyes went wide for a second, his chewing slowing.

“You don’t need a projector?” he asked, seemingly surprised. She gave him a long look, trying to decide if he was kidding. And while he was improving on his poker face, she could definitely tell it was a serious question.

“Nope, it’s all digital.” she said. She wondered (not for the first time) what his childhood was like, or his life before he moved to Romania. 

“Oh, right.” he said, as if he were remembering this fact. She was a little confused; he’d said he’d seen movies in theatres, but it sounded like it never occurred to him that he could watch a movie at home. Granted, he didn’t have a television or computer or phone or any means to watch a movie at home, so maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“I swear Bucky, it’s like you’re from another century sometimes.” she joked, giving him a grin to let him know she was kidding. He gave a brief huff of a laugh, his face looking like his amusement was at some sort of inside joke.

“Yea, seems that way to me too sometimes.” he remarked, going back to his pizza. Mika stared at him for a moment longer, but he didn’t divulge any underlying secrets. With a quiet laugh and a shake of her head, she turned back to the television and started the movie. The opening credits rolled through, but she didn’t pay them any mind. She was instead trying to fold her pizza like Bucky did, though she missed the middle a little bit. As the familiar faces of the sick kid and his grandfather flashed on the screen, Mika slyly glanced at Bucky out of the corner of her eye, trying to catch his reaction. His face looked very serious, and slightly confused. 

“Don’t worry, the princess bit is coming.” she said. This seemed to appease him slightly, though he still seemed vaguely perplexed. His eyes were transfixed on the screen, and he was chewing much slower than he was a moment ago, as if he was forgetting about the food in front of him. He didn’t seem surprised by the change in story, going from the boy and his grandfather to the girl and the farmboy. 

It was then that Bucky’s attention was broken, if only for a moment.  _ She was amazed to discover that when he was saying, “as you wish,” what he meant was, “I love you.” _ He looked very alarmed at that moment, his eyes glancing over to Mika. After all, that had been the line he’d accidentally quoted the other day. She tried to think of something to say to placate his obvious (for him) distress - that she knew he didn’t mean it that way, that obviously since he hadn’t seen it then there was no way for him to know - but she decided the best course of action was to calmly watch the movie, and eat her pizza as if there were nothing awkward about it. Because there wasn’t. 

Once they were over that hurdle, Bucky seemed to relax a little bit. He was still sitting up straight on the couch, his empty plate carefully perched on his lap as he continued to watch the movie. Though he didn’t make any noise at the snarky comments from Vizzinni or the rhyming bit between Fezzik and Inigo, he did have a gentle lift at the corner of his mouth, which might as well have been resounding peals of laughter from him. His brows knit together in concern as Buttercup jumped into the water, the killer eels swimming after her. His posture changed slightly as the Man In Black and Inigo had their sword fight; he leaned a little more forward, and Mika realized that he might actually be interested in who won. His face returned to puzzled during the fight with Fezzik. 

“His plan of attack is completely inefficient. He should be aiming for weaker joints, use his size against him. Why doesn’t the giant just pick him up and snap his neck?” he asked, apparently very concerned with the authenticity of this brawl.

“Shh, he’s explaining now.” Mika scolded, pointing towards the screen. Bucky pressed his lips together, dutifully returning his attention to the screen. As the Man In Black changed his tactics, his expression became a little more approving. She really wanted to ramble about how the movie was made in the ‘80s, how things have definitely gotten better in cinematic effects, but she held her tongue. The Man In Black was choking out the Giant, and Bucky was once again focusing on the story. 

The Battle of Wits followed, with the Man In Black sitting down with Vizzinni with wine. “Does the bald man not realize that the poison is in both cups?” he asked, making Mika sit up and turn to him.

“What?” she asked. “How did you know that?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s what I would do.” he said, as if it were a normal response. She perked an eyebrow.

“And exactly how many poisons are you immune to?” she asked.

“All of them.” he said, giving her a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She rolled her eyes, turning back to the movie.

“Full of shit.” she reiterated, getting up as Vizzinni fell over dead. She walked around the back of the couch, leaning over the arm to pluck the plate from Bucky’s knee. He sat very still as she did, doing his best to mimic a statue. His eyes were still on the television, but she had the feeling he was aware of her every movement. 

Mika retreated to the kitchen, both plates in hand. “Do you want more?” she asked. He seemed more casual from this angle, though he still sat straight up. He tore his gaze from the screen, looking to understand her question. She pointed to the pizza box.

“No, thank you.” he said quietly, giving her a small smile before going back to the movie. She grinned, glad that he seemed to be enjoying the film. She took another piece of pizza from the box, idly eating it as she turned on the coffee maker and pulling out a pod. Yes, this whole “eating pizza with one hand” thing was really gonna be a game changer. 

“Does the girl really not know that the man in the mask is the farm boy?” Bucky asked from the couch. Mika snapped back to glare at him.

“Have you seen this movie before?” she asked. He tilted his head to the side, giving her a confused look.

“No. But it’s fairly obvious based on the color of his eyes and the shape of his jaw that it’s the same man from before.” he said, pointing to the screen. Buttercup pushed Westley down the hill at that point, the “as you wish” echoing as he rolled. 

“Well eight year old Mika did not see that coming at all.” she said. She used the coffee maker to put hot water in a mug, dropping a tea bag into it before switching the floral mug. This time she popped in the coffee pod, running it once again. 

“The prince is an impressive tracker - thank you.” Bucky looked surprised as she handed him the mug of coffee. 

“The prince is the bad guy. You’re not supposed to like the bad guy.” Mika said, idly stirring sugar into her tea as she sat back down next to him. She stretched out, resting her heels on the coffee table. She knew Bucky probably wouldn’t follow her lead to that extent, but she was hoping he would at least lean back.

“Well, he seems to be a knowledgeable swordsman, a skilled tracker, and an intelligent strategist.” he added. Though he was talking to her, his eyes still watched as Westley and Buttercup made their way through the Fire Swamp. 

“Yea, but Westley is an even better swordsman, just as good of a tracker, and a pirate.” she pointed out, turning to him and crossing her arms in a huff. His lips were pressed together, as if he were trying to hid his amusement at her outrage. On the screen, Westley cut a vine before diving into a sand pit. “See? Do you think Humperdinck would leap into quicksand to save the woman he loves? No. He’d let her drown.”

“You can’t drown in sand.” Bucky pointed out, his grin breaking out as she let out a noise of frustration.

“Yes you can, it’s called dry drowning.” she said, attitude coloring her tone. 

“Dry drowning is when water enters the airways and settles in the lungs, causing spasm and pulmonary edema that leads to death up to seventy-two hours after contact with the water.” Bucky recited, looking to her with a satisfied expression on his face. She pouted, crossing her arms and turning back to the television.

“Just watch the movie.” Mika said, sour that she couldn’t think of a comeback. She could still see Bucky grinning out of the corner of her eye, proud of his victory. He stayed silent as Westley and Buttercup encountered the ROUSs, and looked unsurprised as they were met with Humperdinck and the rest of his crew on the other side. He also didn’t seem shocked by Buttercup’s deal to set Westley free. However, his posture picked up as the camera flashed on Count Rugen’s right hand, the sixth finger obvious. 

“The six fingered man.” he whispered, quickly turning to Mika before turning back to the screen.

“Ha, didn’t see that one coming!” she quipped, her confidence restored. He gave her a look from the side of his eye that could be considered slightly miffed, which only made her smile more. Even if it was the film that surprised him and not necessarily her, she still held on to the little triumph. 

Bucky’s expression changed as they found Westley in the Pit of Despair. He got extremely still, his lips parting slightly as he took slow, deliberate breaths. The quiet clicks from his metal prosthesis were muffled by his glove, but she could still hear them as his fingers curled into a fist. 

“They’re going to torture him?” he asked quietly. She’d seen him nervous before, when he was in a new environment or situation. But the nerves he was displaying now, however subtle, were very different from those. 

“We can skip those parts. I’ve seen this a billion times, I can fill you in on any important points we miss.” she offered. She felt super insensitive again - as many times as she’d seen this movie, she completely forgot about the torture scenes. She didn’t even think about how they might affect him - she hadn’t thought about it at all. She could feel heat creeping up the back of her neck; she was hoping to give Bucky a quiet evening with pizza and a good movie. But instead, she’d found a perfect way to send his nerves into overdrive.

“It’s okay.” he responded, but said nothing else besides that. His voice was softer than usual, his face more distracted. He sounded uncertain. He relaxed slightly as the scene showed the peasant yelling at Buttercup; he’d realized that he didn’t have to watch the torture. Yet. She kept an eye on him for a moment longer, but it seemed he’d returned to his baseline level of almost-relaxed. 

“It’s really no big. I hate those parts anyways.” she said, trying to put the blame on herself in the case he wanted to skip it. He didn’t say anything, he only shrugged and kept his eyes on the screen.

The quiet didn’t last long. A few minutes later, Count Rugen was back in the Pit of Despair. The Albino was hooking Westley up to the Machine. And Bucky was starting to look nervous again. His eyes were on the television, but he didn’t seem to be focused on it. She recognized the look in his eye that he got when he was thinking of how to respond to questions she asked him, but his facial expression was different. She couldn’t quite decipher what it meant. Mika stood up, deliberately stepping partially in his view of the screen so she could pick up his empty mug.

“Do you want more coffee?” she asked, slowly moving between him and the screen on the way to the kitchen. He locked his eyes to hers, and while he tried to keep his expression neutral, he definitely looked a little pale. Both his hands were clenched now, pressing into his thighs as if he were trying to distract himself. 

“Yes, please.” he whispered. Westley was gasping in pain, the noises of the torture suddenly seeming so much louder than before. How could she let this happen? Stupid.  _ Stupid _ .   
  
“I have tea as well, which would you prefer?” she asked. The question was unnecessary, as she knew he would decline the tea. But she felt the need to speak over the sounds from the movie, to keep him from hearing too much of it. She should have just skipped it, despite his saying it would be fine. Her insides burned from how mad she was at herself for not thinking of this sooner. 

“Coffee is fine.” he replied, still keeping his eyes on hers. He knew what game she was playing, but he was okay with it. She gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile, still trying to distract him.

“Okay.” she responded, going to the kitchen and firing up the coffee maker again. Finally the scene passed, moving on to the prince’s scheme to murder the princess. Bucky’s hands relaxed, and when she handed him his refilled mug a few moments later, they were as steady as they always were. The next bit of the movie went smoother, Inigo’s rally to kill Rugen distracting from the intense scene before. Bucky’s eyes widened as Buttercup caught Humperdinck in his lies, one corner of his mouth lifted as she told him off. 

“She figured out his play.” he said quietly, finally leaning back against the couch. Mika smiled at how amused he was at the situation, how glad he seemed to be with Buttercup standing up to the bad guy.

“I thought you liked Humperdinck?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.

“I’ve been told I’m not supposed to.” he replied, giving her the vaguely mischievous grin that made her feel like he actually was enjoying his time. 

“I’m glad you’ve seen the light.” she said, watching as Humperdinck locked Buttercup in her room. The scene cut back to the Pit of Despair, and Bucky’s posture immediately stiffened. Mika paused the video, scrolling through the tiles until she found the place where the scene cut away. She could see him looking to her out of the corner of her eye; she turned to him and gave him a noncommittal gesture with her head. “I told you, I don’t like those parts. All you need to know is that Westley is believed to be dead, and Humperdinck did it.”

Bucky perked an eyebrow. “Believed to be?” he asked. His shoulders dropped slightly from their tense position. 

“You probably saw this coming, but he’s totally gonna live.” she explained, playing the movie again before she could give any more away. He tilted his head to the side, but accepted her answer without contention. They watched Inigo and Fezzik make their way through the forest, Bucky’s eyebrows knitting together for a brief moment as they found Westley’s body before he remembered her spoiler. He instead looked shocked as the movie momentarily cut back to the kid and his grandpa.

“I’d completely forgot about them.” he said, looking slightly confused and almost a little annoyed.

“Yea, the ‘80’s were kind of a different time for movies.” Mika said. “I think this was an effort to make it a little more family-friendly. Plus it gave them an excuse to have a random narrator interject.” 

“Huh.” Bucky replied. His face looked like he was working on a complicated math problem, but he abandoned it as Inigo, Fezzik, and Westley returned to the screen. Now he was perplexed for a whole other reason - the man appeared to be dead, but she’d told him that he would live. She could see him trying to reason through it, trying to find the answer in his deep bank of knowledge instead of just  _ watching the damn movie _ . 

Miracle Max and Valerie had always been her favorite part. The first time she saw  _ The Princess Bride _ , the eccentric miracle-working couple made her laugh while her tears dried from Westley’s death. Their bickering and childish antics reminded her of her best friend’s (at the time) grandparents, who were known for playing impish pranks on their next door neighbor, who just so happened to be the priest of the nearby Catholic church. And she loved them even more since they brought hope that maybe, just maybe, sweet Westley would live, and he and the princess would live happily ever after. 

Bucky actually let out a brief chuckle when Miracle Max pronounced Westley “mostly dead.” Mika wished she knew what went on in his head, wished she could ask what he was thinking. It was obvious from the bit before (and things she’d noticed previously) that he had clearly been through something terrible. That was fairly obvious. He was quiet, and reserved, and cautious. Her sister had been the same way, when she’d returned home from...wherever she’d been. But whereas Raisa tended to lash out in anger when things went in ways she didn’t expect, Bucky tended to shut down, to retreat. But here he was, sitting on her couch - actually resting against the back of it - and enjoying a movie on a Sunday night. Maybe miracles didn’t happen with chocolate coated pills. Maybe they were built, one day at a time. 

Bucky was unsurprised when Westley was brought back to life, but whether it was due to Mika’s earlier warning or he just guessed that the miracle pill would work would forever be a mystery. He grinned at his immediate outburst, his challenge to Inigo and Fezzik despite his apparent paralysis. His brows furrowed as the picture changed to Buttercup and Humperdinck, and he turned to her with a confused face.

“So what is their plan?” he asked. Apparently, he was very concerned about the logistics behind the rescue of the princess.

“What, you couldn’t tell with just the mention of a wheelbarrow and cloak?” she asked, giving him a challenging grin. He looked off for a moment, once again looking as if he were calculating.

“Well, there’s a few ways they could go, but they’re all confounded by the Man In Black’s current state.” he said.

“His name is Westley. And you’ll see.” she responded, giving him a satisfied smirk while gesturing to the television. Bucky raised his eyebrows, but dutifully returned his attention to the screen. The picture flipped to the church, with the embellished priest presenting the couple to be wed. Mika immediately sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. Without thinking, she reached across the couch and put her hand on Bucky’s shoulder, immediately withdrawing it when he sat up straight, his eyes sharpening as if he were looking for a threat. “This is the best part.” she said by way of explanation, pulling the collar of her tshirt up over her mouth to try and quell the laughter that was already building. Bucky relaxed again, though it took a few seconds before he rested his back against the couch cushions again.

“Mawidge.” the priest said, after the music and the crowd quieted. Mika immediately let out a squeak of laughter, pressing her hands over her mouth to try and muffle it. She could see Bucky looking at her out of the corner of her eye, smiling at her amusement. “Mawdige is what bwings us togewer, today. Mawidge, the bwessed awangement, that dweam wiffin a dweam…” She was shaking with laughter now, her giggles escaping. From the other side of the couch, even Bucky was letting out a low rumble of a chuckle, though whether it was from the priest’s speech or Mika’s reaction to it, she didn’t know. 

She was able to calm herself as they saw the three men enacting their plan, Fezzik atop the wheelbarrow in the cloak and Inigo trying his best to push him while supporting Westley. Bucky tilted his head to the side, assessing the implementation. 

“So? Any critique?” Mika asked, earning a shrug in response.

“Assuming the men can’t see the wheelbarrow, that’s a pretty good plan.” he said, surprising her.    


“Another point for Westley, then.” she said happily, stretching out just enough so she could stuff her feet between the cushions of the couch. The music was building, the three men were getting close to the gate, surely this would be the time where the princess would be saved and they would ride off into the sunset…

“What?!” Bucky borderline exclaimed (or as close to an exclamation as she’d seen him get) as the priest declared  _ man and wife _ . “But he’s right there.”

“Just keep watching.” she said gently, trying not to give away any more than she had to. Truth be told, she’d been heartbroken the first time she watched this, almost as much as when Westley “died.” Of course, since she now knew the ending, getting through this emotional rollercoaster was much easier. Buttercup was whisked off to the honeymoon suite, and the three friends were on a wild goose chase. Bucky smiled again as Inigo cut down four men without hesitation, his wild eye trained on Count Rugen. The Six Fingered Man was going to get what was coming to him, and he was here for it. He was sitting straight up again, but Mika didn’t think it was because of discomfort this time. It was the climax of the movie, and he was genuinely concerned about the outcome. 

He startled ever so slightly - just enough to notice, really - when Inigo took a knife to the abdomen. His hand moved from his knee to his own stomach, the movement so slow she didn’t think he realized he was doing it. 

“He lives too.” Mika said impulsively. Bucky’s hand quickly returned to his knee as his eyes flew to hers. He hadn’t been expecting her to say anything. 

“A wound like that would be fatal to a normal human.” he murmured. An odd choice of words, she thought. She decided not to press it, figuring just like the hand to his abdomen, it wasn’t something he necessarily meant to show. 

“Movies require a certain suspension of belief. After all, Westley just came back to life because of a miracle pill.” she pointed out. He thought for a moment before accepting her answer, turning his attention to Buttercup, who was holding a knife to her chest. 

_ There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours. _ The line always made Mika chuckle, and today it amused her even more as Bucky’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He realized she was laughing at him, and his surprise changed to chagrin.

“Quite a bold line.” he said. He almost seemed more surprised by the blatant mention of breasts than anything else in the movie. She made a mental note to put any movies with nudity way in the bottom of the list. 

“Westley’s a bold man.” she said, letting out a dramatically wistful sigh and staring at the man. She glanced back to find Bucky giving her a vaguely judgemental look, one eyebrow raising before he too moved his attention. Inigo was back, pulling the knife from his stomach. Mika pulled her knees up to her chest, her excitement buzzing as the Spaniard rallied. It was clear that he was running on spite alone, and she loved it. Bucky seemed mildly impressed as the swordsman fought against his greatest rival, so close to achieving his goal from the last twenty years.  _ Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die! _ The first time Mika saw it, her and her sisters had jumped up and down on the couch, cheering and yelling about how Count Rugen was, in fact, a dead son of a bitch. Their mother had intervened at that point. While Bucky didn’t give any emphatic celebrations at the fight, he did allow a satisfied smile as the Six Fingered Man slid to the ground, dead. 

It appeared that Westley and Buttercup were going to get their happy ever after, though the man still had no strength to stand. When the evil prince entered the scene, Mika could almost swear she heard a disapproving noise come from the other side of the couch. She gave Bucky a puckish grin, pestering him with, “I thought you liked Humperdinck?”

“Sick of his shit.” Bucky said very softly, earning a loud bark of laughter from Mika. He looked at her, alarmed; apparently, either he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, or hadn’t meant for her to hear it. But as her laughter continued, his face relaxed, a small smile settling on his face. 

The last few minutes of the movie weren’t as stressful, what with Humperdinck losing, everyone escaping, and the couple living happily ever after. Mika stood up and gathered their empty mugs as the credits started to roll, taking them to the sink to rinse them out.

“So, what did you think?” she asked, putting the mugs in the dish washer. Bucky was standing, his hands deep in his jacket pockets. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Pretty good.” he said, offering no further explanation. She stopped what she was doing, staring at him in disbelief.

“‘Pretty good’? That’s all you’ve got?” she asked, a little offended. “This is a cinematic masterpiece! It defined my childhood.” 

“Movies have changed a little since I last saw one. I think it’ll take some getting used to.” Bucky said, making Mika clamp her mouth shut and her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She was acutely reminded of the very obvious torture scenes, her stomach churning as she remembered his face.

“That’s fair.” she said, trying to keep her voice even and not show her internal crisis. She looked up again to find Bucky a few feet closer to the door, though she hadn’t seen him move. He was ready to leave. “Do you want any pizza to take home?” 

“I’m good, thank you.” he said. He didn’t seem upset, and was even letting one corner of his mouth barely lift in a polite smile. He was trying to be nice. 

“Lunch for me tomorrow.” she said with a shrug, picking up the box and moving towards her refrigerator. “Saturday morning, then?” 

“Saturday morning.” he agreed, taking that as his invitation to leave and quietly stepping out into the hallway before silently shutting the door behind him. Mika let out a long breath, turning her face heavenward and begging any god that was listening for some normal social skills. She didn’t know what it was about Bucky that made her realize every awkward little thing she did, but it pissed her off. She took another deep breath, reminding herself that Bucky seemed to want to be her friend, just as she wanted to be his - despite all her social blunders when he was around. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t keep count of all the weird things she did.

She put the pizza in the fridge before going back to the television and turning on the cooking channel. She needed to relax. Bucky had agreed to meeting again Saturday, so clearly he wasn’t offended or annoyed. He didn’t seem like someone who would agree to things he really didn’t want to do. That thought quelled her anxiety. She hadn’t ruined anything, her and Bucky were still friends, and everything was as normal as it could be. Next time, she’d just make sure to watch the movie she chose first, just to be sure there was nothing they needed to worry about.

With that, she settled in for a quiet evening alone.


	8. Regression to the Mean

_ The Princess Bride _ wasn’t so bad, Bucky decided. He probably wouldn’t watch it again for a long time, but it wasn’t bad. 

Sure, there was an initial adjustment period, considering he hadn’t seen a film since 1942. Back then, everything was on a projector, it was hit or miss if the sound lined up correctly, and he would spend way too much money on concessions in an effort to impress his date. Now, everything was digitized and easy to access in the convenience of home. Color was expected. And the girl he was sitting with had purchased the pizza and supplied coffee. That didn’t sit well with him. Next time, he would just  _ show up _ with the pizza. 

The torture scene shook him, straight to the core. He couldn’t deny it. It brought his memories so close to the surface that at one point, he was afraid he was going to sink into them. He could feel them, clawing up his throat and sinking their teeth behind his eyes. The only thing that kept him from being paralyzed in the clutches of his memories was the ample distraction Mika had given him. He’d focused on her voice as she asked him about his drink, the floral smell of her hair as she walked by, the sound of the coffee maker as it heated the water and spat it out. Anything to stave off the monster that lived in the shadows of his mind.  

He hadn’t been in the Machine in over a year, but he still remembered the agony of it. He still had phantom pains shoot through his head and down his spine, still felt his ribs lock up and his lungs freeze. The frequency of these moments was decreasing, but they still happened. Everything still happened. He knew that it was going to take a long time to normalize, that he would never achieve the place he was in before the War, before Hydra took him. But hell, tonight he’d been ready to jump out a window just because of a pizza delivery kid. 

But the man in black -  _ Westley _ , as Mika had so emphatically corrected him - gave him an odd sense of...what was this, hope? It didn’t feel quite like hope. But maybe it was the closest he could get to it. If Westley could get kidnapped by pirates, transform into one himself, and survive life and death to get to his happy ending, maybe he could too. Well, he never expected a happy ending for himself. But a decent ending, a quiet ending - maybe that was still possible.

After he left Mika’s, he didn’t go back to his own apartment. Instead he made his way outside, the cold night air making the skin of his face tingle. He took a cleansing breath, the cold making his chest ache for a moment. It was good. It was relaxing. A few flurries drifted down occasionally, but it was too warm for anything to stick. December was right around the corner, and he was sure snow would come with it. He started walking north, eyeing any changes in the neighborhood. They’d trimmed the trees in front of the butcher down the street. The small animal hospital further down had new pictures in the window, displaying the “pet of the week.” The thrift store three blocks down had a new smell, just like it did every time he walked by. 

He’d been too forthcoming tonight with his remarks. He’d admitted he was immune to all poisons (though there was a very real possibility that was inaccurate, he didn’t know how strong the doctors had made him). He’d demonstrated a clear emotional response to portions of the film and was unable to mask them. He’d shown unmistakable vulnerabilities and weaknesses that Mika could capitalize on, if she so chose. But he remembered her face as she vaguely recognized what was going on in his head, the way she’d literally stood between him and the television in an effort to block the stimulus. Her heartbeat had risen during the exchange, but not in the way it did when people were lying - though, he wasn’t quite sure what another reason might be. He’d been compromised, obviously, and any skilled assassin would have jumped at that. But she hadn’t. The likelihood of her being a Hydra agent in disguise was down to four-point-two percent. 

He turned at the ten kilometer mark. It was easy to cross the streets now that it was late and cold; most everyone was at home, snuggled in their blankets and preparing for the work week ahead. But Bucky was outside, scouting his perimeter and noting anything that may seem important. The lion outside the bank had been scrubbed clean, the concrete a light shade of grey again. He idly wondered if the two French girls were able to find their hotel the day before. He passed by Mika’s gym, by several quiet restaurants, and the few department stores that peppered the area. As the hours passed, he made his way by apartment building after apartment building, ears always listening for any sign of trouble. 

He did this every night he was off, making his way around the city and checking...everything. He was always mollified by the quiet and the cold, the environment helping his senses to sharpen. It gave him something to focus on besides the jumbled thoughts and memories that were constantly rolling around his brain. He had yet to run into any sort of situation that may require intervention, but he was always ready. This was how he was to repay his debt to society or God or Karma or whatever was in charge. He didn’t consider himself a good man, but he’d try to pretend to be one. Then maybe, when he died, he could be at peace.

Three quarters of the way around his circle, he stopped. A large church loomed into the night sky, the stained glass windows dark. The moon reflected off them, making them gleam in the darkness. Every time he passed this church, he stopped for a moment. He remembered that he used to go to church, before the War. On Sundays, he and Steve would sit in the hard wooden pews, Mrs. Rogers staring daggers at them as they tried to whisper back and forth. He couldn’t remember the conversations they had, or what the priest was saying up at the front - had it been in English? He couldn’t tell. As he stared now at the building in front of him, he felt a familiar pull in the back of his mind. He could almost hear the bells ringing, almost feel a slender hand on his arm as if Mrs. Rogers were there, holding onto him as he helped her up the steps. He was startled to find he had one foot on the stair in front of him, as if there was intention for him to enter. This was the closest he’d ever gotten to the doors.

Bucky quickly stepped away, continuing on his route. Even if he didn’t know if God was real or not, he wouldn’t taint such a holy place by the blood on his boots. He did not belong in such a place. 

He finished his circle, returning to his building just as the clock turned to three. Most of the residents were sleeping as he passed, though the college-aged kid on the seventh floor was still awake. Bucky heard him muttering to himself, naming muscular attachments and neural innervations. He must be studying.  His own apartment was quiet, with no change in smell or station since he’d left some time before. The faint scent of oranges still clung to the air; when he’d chosen it for the next step in his rehabilitation, he didn’t realize they would be so fragrant. And he hadn’t realized that fragrance would bring back so many  _ feelings _ . 

_ We used to eat oranges as dessert. _ He’d written that in his journal a few nights previous. And he had to admit, when he was actually able to salvage a wedge from the carnage of his self-imposed physical therapy, the flavor hadn’t overwhelmed his senses with sweetness like the confections he’d tried with Mika. It was light, and tangy, and made him feel that odd sense of normalcy that he’d been looking for ever since he’d escaped from his prison. No true memories had surfaced, but certain sensations did. Bright sunshine, warm on his face. A busy street, people pushing past him as he walked. Laughter from a friend, the sound intermingling with the hubbub of the city. The tangy citrus scent cut through the grimy smog from the cars. He picked up the last orange from the bunch, carefully holding it in his prosthetic hand as he peeled it with the other. He could feel the mechanical nerves firing, trying to lock in the strong grip. The orange was softer than the apple; he could see the flesh bending and squishing as he tried to maintain a steady pressure. He managed to get the entire peel off this time, and quickly cupped his left hand so the intact orange would settle into his palm. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, eyeing the fruit. He didn’t trust himself to separate the wedges yet, but at least it was peeled. He tipped his hand, letting the orange tumble onto his counter before using just his right hand to pull the wedges apart from each other. One step closer.

Bucky hadn’t expected to see Mika until the following Saturday, but he was surprised to run into her early Wednesday morning. He was on his way back from getting the daily newspaper, whereas she was on her way...somewhere. She was moving very quickly, and was not exactly dressed for the elements. Why hadn’t she dressed properly? Was she leaving in a hurry? Was there an emergency at the apartments? Her face didn’t betray any impending doom, only the vague fatigue from the hour and mild annoyance at the temperature. Her face brightened as she spotted him, giving him a big smile. 

“Morning, Bucky.” she said, her arms wrapped around her middle. 

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the area around them for danger. He slipped out of his heavy outer layer, handing it over to her. He thought her lips might be turning blue. She took it gratefully, pulling it on quickly.

“Huh? Yea?” she said, confusion coloring her face. She gazed at him expectantly, and he realized after a few moments that she was waiting for an explanation for his question.

“Looks like you left in a hurry.” he said shortly, not wanting to overwhelm her with the full train of thought he’d ridden. No need to put undue stress on her when clearly nothing out of the ordinary was afoot. She looked down at her outfit, then back to him.

“Oh, yea. Forgot to go grocery shopping, so I was just running around the corner to get breakfast.” she clarified. “Care to join?”

“I already ate.” he said. It was the truth, as he’d eaten one of his protein bars about an hour before. He found they seemed more tasteless nowadays, less appealing. He didn’t think he had the capability of getting  _ tired of _ something, but apparently it was still a possibility. Her face fell slightly, making some feeling stir behind his sternum. 

“Oh, well maybe next time.” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She started to take his jacket off, and the feeling in his chest got slightly more constricting. He had an idea. A terrifying idea, but an idea nonetheless. He held his hand out to stop her motions, implying she could keep it on.

“I could use a cup of coffee.” he said quietly. His heart jolted for a second as the thought of unplanned social interaction settled in, but he took a deep, calming breath. Based on the foot traffic that passed by in the morning, the place on the corner wouldn’t be busy until closer to the eight o’clock hour. Clearly she had not planned to be out that long. He wanted to do this. He  _ needed _ to do this. 

Mika smiled again, this time a little more genuine. “Excellent! I’ll be quick, I promise. I’ve gotta be on a call at half past seven.” she responded, turning and continuing her quick clip towards the bakery. Bucky easily caught up and fell into stride next to her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Sirens sounded down the street, and he instinctively ducked his head down and away from the road as it passed, hiding his face with his baseball cap. She glanced his way for a moment, but her face didn’t betray any notice of the situation. She might have been looking past him at the passing police car. When they made it to the bakery, he went to claim a table outside, but Mika looked at him incredulously.

“What?” he asked lowly. She was looking as if he’d grown an extra head. He suddenly felt the urge to run his hand over his face and make sure there was nothing unexpected there.

“Bucky it’s negative a hundred degrees out here.” she stated. It was an exaggeration, of course, but he did estimate the temperature to be around zero degrees centigrade. Nothing remarkable.

“It’s not that bad.” he said. Her hand briefly moved, as if she were going to reach for him, but she changed her mind and adjusted the too-long sleeve of his jacket.

“I know you prefer to be outside, and I’m with you on that, I really am,” she started, giving him a very sympathetic look. “but if I sit outside today, I’m going to freeze to death. Right in that chair. My body will become an art installation that will be removed in the spring when it thaws. There will be a plaque next to me that reads ‘Having Breakfast With A Friend’ and say that you were the artist.”

“That’s...a dramatic description.” he said. He thought of telling her that it would take multiple hours before she truly froze to  _ death _ , and that before that she’d experience loss in coordination and cognitive processing (among other symptoms) before falling unconscious, but decided it would be one of those things that normal people wouldn’t want to know. 

“I get dramatic when I’m freezing my balls off.” she said, and he couldn’t help but let out a brief laugh at her turn of phrase. She was lightly stomping her feet, as if trying to get feeling back in them. Bucky didn’t want to sit inside, he really didn’t - but if Mika was going to be physically miserable (and it seemed like that would be the case), then perhaps he could handle it, just this once.

“Very well.” he said, moving and pulling the door open for her. Immediately the scent of sugar and butter hit his senses, and he regretted his decision. 

The owner greeted them with a warm smile and a boisterous hello, showing off her newest creations behind the glass. Bucky declined them with a polite smile, instead requesting her biggest cup of coffee. She happily obliged, trading the drink for a few notes before turning to Mika. His companion ordered a pastry that he didn’t recognize, as well as a drink that didn’t make sense to him. Who would put pumpkin in coffee? He took his cup and looked around, trying to find the best tactical position to set up. Ideally, they’d be outside. But Mika had already shot that idea down. The back corner? No, only one door that he could see. There was possibly one in the kitchen, but he couldn’t be sure. The middle? No, then if there was a back door, someone could come from behind. The right front corner would have to do; it put the door closest to his metal hand, and allowed him to see through the large windows while providing him with at least a little bit of coverage. 

He sat down, Mika joining him moments later with her plate and her cup. The spices from her coffee were sharp, and reminded him of autumns past. Just like with the oranges, no specific memories came to mind, only faint feelings. It smelled like a holiday, but not Christmas. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Did you just get off of work?” Mika asked, carefully biting into the pastry she’d purchased. She was careful not to let any of the sugary crumbs fall on his jacket.

“No, got home around three. Just woke up a little later than usual.” he explained, taking a long drink from his coffee. The sharp bitterness made the sugar laden air more bearable. 

“Woke up a little - oh my god, Bucky, how do you not sleep all day?” she asked, her eyes wide. He shrugged.

“Just don’t.” he said. How could he explain that he’d been trapped frozen in sleep on and off for years at a time? That for seven decades he had no concept of day or night, only pain and darkness and death? That if he slept for too long, his memories as the Soldier played so vividly in his mind that he was afraid to wake up and be Him again? 

“You need to sleep, it’s bad for your health not to.” she said, her face colored with concern. He shook his head, his version of waving off her comment.

“I’ll be fine.” he replied.  _ I’ll heal. I’ll live. Just like I always do. _ She gave him a pointed look.

“Uh huh. Sure. That’s what they all say. And then all of the sudden you’re half naked and trapped in a lab room between a wall and a desk with an uneven centrifuge and second degree burns.” she said quickly. Bucky perked an eyebrow, her description painting and odd picture in his mind. Before he could ask any questions, she followed up with, “That was Elena, not me. And to be fair, it was during finals.”

“I’ll, uh, try and sleep more.” he conceded, and she gave him a triumphant grin. Of course, he knew in his heart that his sleep schedule would be the exact same, but he’d at least think about it.

“Good.” she said with an emphatic nod. She took a sip of her drink before turning back to her pastry, which was already nearly done. Bucky took a cursory glance through the windows and to the back of the shop, noticing that instead of the young boy helping out the owner, today it was a young woman. Someone new. He decided to keep an eye on her, just in case.

“Busy day at work today?” he asked, remembering her comment about “a call” earlier. He wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but figured he could rely enough on context clues to continue a conversation. Mika nodded, finishing off her breakfast.

“It always starts picking up about now. They’ll make me actually go into the office starting next week. Things always get crazy at the end of a quarter, and especially crazy at the end of the year.” she said, holding her cup with both hands and sipping away at her drink. “Do you have a busy season?”

“Nah. Busy all the time, I think.” he said. At least, it had been busy for the six months he’d been working there. He assumed things would continue in that trend. 

“Busy isn't so bad. Helps the time go by faster.” she said, gazing out the window herself. The sun was poking between the buildings, painting strips of gold across the street. She checked her watch, startling and downing the rest of her drink with a wince at how hot it was. “Speaking of which, I gotta get back. You ready?”

“Yes.” he said, also finishing the rest of his coffee and getting up with her. The cold, clear air outside was refreshing to him, but Mika let out an emphatic swear and bundled further into his jacket, a move which made him chuckle. She set a glare his direction, which was even more comical given how big his coat was on her. 

“Some of us weren’t built like a hearty Russian bear, okay?” she said, shivering for good measure as a breeze passed through. She was walking fast back towards their building, faster than he’d ever seen her walk before. She really could be quite speedy when she tried. 

“Need more meat on your bones.” he quipped. The line felt right, but his delivery felt wrong. In his past life, he would have playfully pinched her arm, maybe even tickled her ribs. He could feel the muscles of his arms tighten slightly, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin as the ghost of his previous self passed through him. But instead of initiating contact, he kept his hands in his pockets, walking with a respectable distance between the two of them. 

“There’s plenty meat on my bones, thank you. I just need a few more outer layers.” she said, wrapping his jacket a little tighter around her to make a point. He moved quick up the steps as they reached their apartments, scanning them into the building and opening the door for her. She nodded her thanks, letting out a dramatic sigh as the warmth circled them. He let her lead the way up the stairs, staying to her side and slightly behind her in the event that she stumbled. Even if she’d never actually taken a tumble down the staircase (that he knew of), he still placed himself in a position to catch her if she fell. At first, it was a conscious decision. Now, it was just a habit. 

She peeled his jacket from her shoulders as they reached the top landing, handing it back to him. “Thank you, again. I promise I’ll start preparing more for the weather.” she said. She crossed her arms over her middle, as if she were still cold. He thought to offer her the jacket again, but figured she would have one in her apartment that she could use, one that was more suited to her.

“Not a problem. Cold doesn’t bother me.” he said with a shrug. Back during his days as the Soldier, he was never given more than what was necessary to keep frostbite from setting in. Even then, he had very vivid memories of fingertips and toes painfully growing back. 

“Whatever you say, Elsa.” she replied, earning a confused look from Bucky. Who was Elsa? Did he look like this Elsa? Was Mika having a stroke, with resulting prosopagnosia? She let out a sigh at his expression, adding, “I guess I’ll add  _ Frozen _ to the list.”

“Oh.” he said, realizing that she was once again making a reference that he didn’t understand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m impressed you’ve gone this long without having to hear that damn song.” she said, raising her eyebrows. She seemed vaguely annoyed, but he was just more puzzled. Song? He thought they were talking about a movie. Where did the song come from?

“If you don’t like it, then why would we watch it?” he questioned. It was getting easier to accept the  _ we _ part of his statement. It may take a thousand repetitions before he’d actually believe that Mika wanted to be his friend and spend time with him, but he’d repeat it a thousand times if it meant moving towards a normal life again. Normal people had friends. Normal people “hung out.” Normal people watched movies together. Normal people did not hide in caves and hoard weapons, or live in apartments alone and speak to no one. He wanted, desperately, to be somewhere within the realm of normal. 

“Because unfortunately it has become very popular, and I would not be providing a thorough movie education to you if we left it out due to my bias against it.” she said matter-of-factly. The answer was not exactly surprising; once Mika got an idea into her head, she seemed to be pretty stubborn about it. He let his mouth tilt up in a grin, letting out a brief snicker.

“I guess add it to the list then.” he agreed. She nodded emphatically, going to her door and unlocking it.

“Excellent. See you Saturday?” she asked, slowly backing through the open doorway. He remembered she needed to go to work.

“Saturday.” he concurred, turning to his own door. He heard her door close and the sound of her feet behind it as she moved quickly across her apartment. He checked his watch to find it was a minute until her call - she was nearly late. Nearly. 

His apartment was as dark and silent as when he left it. One day he might remove the coverings from the windows, but not today. He laid his jacket over the chair before sitting down at the little table, pulling forward his journal and opening it to the first page. The first few pages were routine now, the words comfortable and familiar. They didn’t feel new anymore, didn’t feel like they were going to topple out of his head at any moment. The later pages still felt like that, but he was getting better. One day at a time, he was determined to get better.

Once he finished with his journal, he pulled out the newspaper from that morning. The front page detailed a political scandal, which made Bucky relax. He’d made it another day. Surely if someone found the Winter Soldier, it’d be front page news. But this morning, he was safe. 

He had another protein pack before he went to work, but found it even more unsatisfying than his breakfast. He considered going to the cafe down the street, where the waitress had slipped him her phone number, but decided against it. He didn’t want to run the risk of having someone recognize him. And he also didn’t want to explain why he hadn’t called. So he ate his protein bar and slid on his jacket, letting the faint scent of flowers surround him as he walked to work. He’d forgotten how nice floral scents were. Everyone else milling about the streets during shift change were stuck in their concrete jungle, but he was walking through his own little garden. 

Usually he was one of the first to arrive for the night shift, but today Hugo and Ion had both beaten him. He walked past them to his locker at the end, giving them a pointed nod by way of greeting. A note on the bulletin board said that Ronaldo was out sick - the other men would have to pick up his portion of the work. Might as well, Bucky thought. Extra work didn’t bother him. Once the locker door was open, he tucked in what little gear he brought with him. As he slipped his jacket off, he noticed a long, dark hair stuck to the sleeve. He gingerly pulled it from the material, holding it for a second. It was definitely too long to be his; it must be Mika’s. He didn’t want to drop it and leave her DNA in a place she’d never been to, but what else could he do? He could see Hugo and Ion looking at him from the corner of his eye; normal people would drop it. He didn’t need them to question. 

“Your girl’s hair gets everywhere too?” Hugo asked as the dark strand fell to the floor. Could they still see it? Bucky could still see it. But they were looking at him, not the floor. 

“Don’t got a girl. Just a friend who was cold.” he muttered, hanging the jacket in his locker without a second thought. He wondered if they could smell her flowers as well, or if that was just his enhanced senses.

“Uh huh. Bet you’re ‘just friends’ alright. You realize the objective is usually to take clothes off, not add more, right?” Ion teased, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Not always necessary.” Bucky retorted, trying to hold back his grin and keep his face serious. Ion made fun of him more than the other guys, and Bucky always felt a sense of accomplishment when he stunned him into silence. Just as he was hoping, Ion was gaping like a fish, trying to come up with a response as Hugo let his loud laughter ring through the locker room. 

“He’s not wrong.” Hugo said, his words barely intelligible due to his laughing. Bucky pulled on his gloves, heading towards the back to punch in for the night as Ion continued to sputter lame attempts at comebacks.

“You need to use your imagination more.” Bucky added, slipping out the door to the warehouse before either man could respond. Hugo’s laughter followed him into the open space, muffling once the door fell shut. The smirk on his face lingered as he began unloading and stacking. It had been a good day for him, the best day he’d had since he’d escaped a year ago. He could never get complacent - no, he’d have to be cognizant of the world around him until his dying day - but maybe he could have a life. Maybe he could make it work. And if it didn’t work here...well, he’d never been to Croatia before. That could be back up plan number one. 

As he walked home in the dark ten hours later, with the sleeping city around him and the clear night watching over him, he found himself hoping Croatia would only ever be a contingency. He rather liked Romania, and wouldn’t mind staying there for as long as they’d let him.


	9. The Ties That Bind Us

“Elena, no. It’s too cold.” Mika said from beneath her pile of blankets. She’d stationed herself on her couch an hour or two before, resolved that really, this time, she was going to stay in. 

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Elena said, dramatically laying on top of the mountain of linens that housed her friend. 

“I know what you’re going to say - ‘you never come out anymore! The busy season starts soon and I’ll never see you! Why do you hate me?’ For the record, I don’t hate you.” Mika countered, not moving from her position in the warmth. 

“Ah, but you forgot the most important part.” Elena whispered close to Mika’s face in a conspiratory manner, even if it was just the two of them in the apartment. “Hans has finally made his first batch of homemade cider for the season.” 

Mika paused. That changed things. “You should have led with that.” she murmured, making Elena hoot in triumph. 

“So you’ll come out then?” she asked, looking incredibly hopeful. Mika mulled it over for a moment.

“For one drink. Wait, two drinks.” she finally conceded. “I have to get up early in the morning.”

“Again?” Elena said, looking confused. “What are you doing this time?”

“Working out.” she said. She purposefully left out that it was with Bucky, knowing how quickly her friend could jump to conclusions. She was hoping Elena would leave it at that, but knew better. As expected, she let out a suspicious noise.

“So this is a regular thing, you and Bucky working out?” she asked, a certain tone coloring her voice. Of course she remembered her neighbor’s name, and that they had worked out together last weekend. Amazing what she could remember if she really wanted. 

“Maybe.” Mika replied, trying to keep her answers short. She tunneled out of her blanket stack, going into her bedroom to get ready and trying to distract Elena with clothing choices. Unfortunately, she was very good at multitasking, especially when she put her mind to it.

“Don’t you ‘maybe’ me. This is how it starts. First you - no, not that one - first you just casually hang out, maybe work out together or go to the movies. And it’s casual and easy and - yes, that one looks better - and then  _ boom _ ! You’re drinking wine and making sweet love and staying in bed for three days.” she said, making exaggerated hand motions to amplify her words. Mika pulled her shirt off, changing into the one her friend had selected.

“You’re crazy. Bucky is just a friend. Let the man live.” she said, switching her pajama pants for her jeans. She’d be damned if she was going out in a skirt in this cold. 

“The man is very handsome and can live in my bedroom if he so desires.” Elena retorted, making Mika throw a random shirt at her. 

“You’re a mess. What happened to the blonde from last week?” Mika asked, smoothing her hair into a sleek ponytail. Elena wasn’t the only one with a great memory. 

“She is a wonderful person, but we agreed that we would keep our time short and sweet.” Elena said, checking her own reflection in Mika’s bathroom mirror and touching up her makeup. 

“You don’t believe in short and sweet.” Mika pointed out. Elena shrugged nonchalantly.

“Maybe it wasn’t short, but it was very, very sweet.” she said suggestively, returning to her side of the room. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” she replied. Truth be told, she was getting the knot in the pit of her stomach that only used to appear before big tests and important presentations. She didn’t want to go to the pub, not really. But Hans’ homemade cider would make the trip worth it. Elena clapped her hands, pushing Mika towards the door. She made sure to grab her keys and her purse before slipping her heavy coat on, preparing herself to brave the elements. 

“So, two drinks and home by eleven, right?” Elena asked as they began their trek down the street. 

“If you don’t mind.” Mika replied, suddenly feeling sheepish. She didn’t want her friend to have to change her plans, didn’t want to ruin her night. She wanted to feel brave and strong and confident - but the idea of walking home alone made her even more anxious. 

“Of course I don’t!” Elena said, as if the contrary were preposterous. “Maybe I need to leave early too. Maybe I’m planning to work out before the crack of dawn like you.”

Mika let out a very lady-like snort. “The only time you’ve been up before dawn is if you’ve  _ stayed _ up until dawn.” 

“I’m turning a new leaf, starting tomorrow.” she insisted, holding her head up in a proud manner.

“Absolutely. I’m proud of you.” she agreed, hooking her elbow through Elena’s as they continued through the cold. 

The pub was warm and inviting, a welcome change to the bitter winter winds that were slowly making their way into town. The air smelled of impending holiday seasons, and Hans had already festively hung lights across the bar front. 

“You’re late!” Nicolae called from their favorite booth as they walked in.

“A woman is never late or early. She arrives precisely when she means to.” Elena quoted, waving to Hans as they slid into their seats across from their friend. Mika reached across the table, sliding Nicolae’s half-empty plate to their half.

“Excuse you, that’s mine.” he said, trying to reach across and reclaim his chips. Elena smacked his hand, making him recoil reflexively. 

“But we’re late, and we’re hungry.” Mika countered, taking a chip and popping it into her mouth despite his protests. Elena joined along, digging in to the previously untouched pile.

“I hate you both. I hope you realize that.” he said, crossing his arms and pretending to be angry with them. 

“You can’t fool us. We know you don’t even eat these.” Mika said, mouth full of potato.

“Then why would Hans bring them to me, hm?” he asked aggressively. At that moment, the man himself arrived with steaming mugs of warm cider, setting them down on the table.

“Because Hans knew that these two would be here soon, and would finish the plate for you.” he said, speaking in the third person. “I always have a plan. No one seems to realize that.”

“Of course we do.” Elena objected, gesturing for him to come closer so she could place a fat kiss on his cheek.

“We would be nothing without you, Hans.” Mika added, pulling one of the mugs towards her with glee. Hans’ homemade cider always signalled the beginning of the holiday season. It was also warm, and sweet, and completely perfect for these frigid nights.

“You’d be fine. Just a little hungrier and a little more sober.” he said, flashing them a grin before heading back to his post. Mika took a sip of her drink, the sweet apple and cinnamon warming her from the inside out. Maybe coming out wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

Two hours later, and her tune had changed. It was nearing ten o’clock, and she was regretting agreeing to stay out an hour later than this. The week was catching up to her, and she was acutely aware of all the people in the pub. The cider had lulled her into a state that made her more ready to go to bed than to rally for the rest of the night. The rest of her friends were back in the corner, playing a game of darts. She was sitting at the bar, nursing a forbidden third glass of cider and idly chatting with Hans whenever he had a free moment. Her eyes kept flicking to the clock above the liquor shelf, counting down the minutes until she could leave. 

“You look miserable.” Hans said, leaning his elbows on the bar.

“‘Miserable’ is a strong word.” Mika replied, giving the best smile she could muster. “But would I rather be at home under a pile of blankets? Yes.” 

“At home?” Alexei asked, sliding onto the stool next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulders. “But the night is just getting started!”

“I’m tired,” she replied, trying to shrug his arm off. He made sure it stayed on. “and my night is almost over.”

“At least come play one round with us.” he said, jerking his head towards the dart board. Mika grimaced.

“I’d rather not. I’m gonna just sit here with my cider and hang out.” she said. She could tell he’d taken shots earlier. Multiple shots. 

“Come on, one round.” he tried to convince her further, but she shook her head.

“Don’t take my one friend away from me.” Hans said, taking her hand and giving Alexei a relatively serious glare.

“Just one game!” he replied, finally letting go of her shoulders. She let out a sigh of relief, until he grabbed her ponytail and started pulling. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”   
  
“Alexei, I don’t want to. Let go.” she said sternly, trying to contort so she could escape. Hans’ hand slipped from hers. Alexei was laughing, still holding onto the edge of her hair and trying to drag her in the direction of the rest of the group. Mika felt a sense of panic rise within her. She knew he was just kidding around, but she didn't like it. She didn’t like that she couldn't get out of it. She didn’t like that he wasn’t letting go. Hans looked helplessly from behind the bar, unable to reach them.

“If you just try, you’ll get into it.” Alexei said. Again, she knew he didn’t mean his statement in the way it came across. But it still didn’t sit well with her. She was able to turn enough to take a hold of his wrist, fixing him with the coldest glare she could muster.

“Let. Go.” she said, trying to channel the sternness her mother used to use on her and her sisters. She felt demoralized as Alexei just started to laugh.

“Come on, it’s just a bit of fun.” he said, giving her ponytail an extra tug for good measure. She felt her panic turn to anger. She wasn’t one to get angry quickly, but he was pulling on her last nerve. 

“Dude, she said let go.” Hans said. Alexei laughed, jerking her head again. She couldn’t get his hand to loosen. When did his grip get so strong? Was every man she knew freakishly strong? 

“Hands off my woman!” Elena said, sharply jabbing him in the ribs. He finally let go, and Mika took a few protective steps away from him. Elena turned him and shoved him back in the direction of the dart board. “You, go back over there. You’re in time out.”

“Thank you.” she said, rubbing her arms. Elena put her hands on her cheeks.

“Are you okay? I thought he was going to accidentally snap your neck.” she said, her hands going to her shoulders. Now that Mika thought about it, her neck was a little sore.

“I’m fine. He was just...being annoying.” she said. She looked at the clock above the bar again - how was time moving so slowly? She was over this whole thing. “I think I’m just going to go home.”

“Yes. Let’s go.” she agreed, giving her a gentle pat on her shoulders.

“Wait!” Hans said, holding his hands up. The two women turned to him, confused and challenging looks on their faces. He held up his first finger, gesturing for them to stay as he ducked down behind the bar. He re-emerged with two glass bottles, both filled with a warm amber liquid. “I made a little extra.”

“Aw! Thank you!” Elena cheered, taking the bottles with a look of pure joy that had not been seen in a while.

“Now I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for alcohol to leave the establishment so put it in your purse, and if you get caught I’m going to say that you stole it.” Hans said shortly, wiping the surface of the bar and giving them a pointed look. The girls did a little dance as the bottles went into the purse, giving him the most conspiratorial looks they could make. 

“Got it, boss.” she said, tucking the bottles into her bag before hooking her elbow through Mika’s. “See you next time.”

“Have a good night. Be safe.” he said, sending them off with a wave. “Oh, text me when you get home, yea?”

“Of course!” Mika said as they walked to the door. They waved at their other friends from across the building, ignoring their jeers for leaving early and the vague pleas for them to stay. The silence outside was welcome after the volume of the pub, the only noise being the clicking of their shoes on the concrete. Elena’s arm was still looped through hers, the contact comforting in the cold night air. 

“I’m getting really sick of Drunk Alexei’s shit.” Elena said after a while. Mika wasn’t surprised; Elena was very quick to anger, though it usually burned fast and bright before fizzling away.

“He was extra annoying tonight.” Mika agreed. She could still feel how lopsided her ponytail was from him tugging on it, a solid chunk of it flying free. She wanted to fix it, but didn’t want to leave the comfort of her friend’s arm. 

“He’s on probation, I’ve decided.” she said definitively, stopping in front of Mika’s building.

“I second that motion.” she said, gathering her friend into a hug. Elena squeezed her tightly for a moment before pulling away.

“So it’s carried. Excellent. I’ll alert the group.” she said, pulling one of the bottles of cider from her purse, handing it to her. “Enjoy this, and don’t have too much fun tomorrow. Or do. Live your best life.” 

“I will.” she said with a laugh, scanning her fob to the building and opening the door. She paused before ducking inside. “Text me when you get wherever you’re going, yea?”

“Yes, mum.” she answered sarcastically, sticking her tongue out before turning and walking away. Mika went into the apartment building, slowly beginning her ascent to the top floor. Her annoyance had faded slightly, probably thanks to the cider. Now, she was just ready to crawl back under her blankets and sleep. 

Once back in her apartment, she had to force herself to go through her nightly routine instead of faceplanting on her bed and passing out. She needed to be fresh and have her shit together the next morning, cause she knew Bucky would. He was the very definition of  _ always ready _ . So she showered and brushed her teeth and hair, making sure to drink a large bottle of water before finally sliding under the covers to sleep. 

Her alarm went off entirely too early, but she pulled herself out of bed anyways. She went through her motions - clothes, teeth, coffee - before packing up her bag. She started to braid her hair, but changed her mind, arranging it into a ponytail instead. She added a few extra layers of clothing, the morning weather report having informed her that it was well enough below freezing that snow might be a possibility. If that were the case, she’d need better cover than a sweatshirt and leggings. Now ready, she stepped out into the hallway to meet Bucky. As expected, he was already waiting for her, giving her the half-smile that seemed to be his customary greeting.

“Good morning.” she sang, handing him his cup of coffee. He took it, giving her a nod in thanks. This time, he barely hesitated before taking a sip.

“Good morning.” he replied softly. She gave him a bright smile, heading down the stairs without hesitation.

“Come on, let’s go before I change my mind with this cold.” she said. She suddenly felt a little silly in her big coat - Bucky was only in his jacket and a long sleeved shirt - but as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, she had no regrets. The air hurt her face, and a sharp wind was cutting through in every direction. She let out a squeal at the temperature, and could have sworn she heard a low chuckle rumbling from her companion. She sent a glare his direction, but he’d already schooled his face back to it’s careful neutrality. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and she could swear she could see the corner of his lip twitching. If she didn’t have to pull her scarf away, she was ready with a snide comment about ice giants. She decided to store it away for another day. 

The kid at the front desk of the gym looked even nearer to asleep than usual, his head resting on his arms and the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. He gave them a half-hearted wave as they entered, but didn’t really look at them. The bikes in the corner were vacant today; Mika supposed the two old ladies had foregone their workout due to the cold. They were smart. Bucky slid off his jacket and backpack, carefully placing them next to where she’d dropped her bag. He stood patiently waiting, a ghost of a grin on his face as she peeled off layer after layer until she was left in her tshirt and leggings. 

“Ready?” he asked, his tone barely betraying a hint of sarcasm. 

“Don’t you judge me. It’s not my fault I wasn’t built to withstand arctic temperatures.” she replied, rubbing her arms to warm up. Though the gym was heated, it was not heated near enough to keep her warm at baseline. 

“It’s not that bad.” he said with a shrug. She made a face at him, but couldn’t come up with a better response than that. With a smug look of triumph, he changed the subject. “Do you remember what we went over last time?”

They spent a few minutes reviewing before Bucky had her lay on the floor again, going through the same weird warmup game that he’d shown her the week prior. He made it a lot harder this time, that same half-smile on his face as he tried to trip her up. She spent most of her brain power either trying to follow his movements or trying to control her breathing, the subtle expression on his face giving away how competitive he was with this. When they finished, he gave her an impressed look, once again complimenting her performance before pulling out his notebook to consult for today’s lesson.

“Actually, can I make a special request for today?” Mika asked, her heart hammering in her chest. Between the exercise and asking him for yet another favor, it was impossible to lower her heart rate. He looked vaguely surprised at her question, but when he spoke, his voice was as even as it always was.

“Of course.” he said, carefully closing the journal and turning his attention to her. She faltered, his blue eyes suddenly making her feel self conscious. She cleared her throat, looking down at the floor to gather her thoughts. It suddenly seemed so stupid and embarrassing that she almost thought to say “nevermind” and let him get on with his previously planned lesson. But he was looking at her with quiet concern, and she reminded herself that he’d never judged her for anything before. At least, not that she could tell. The panic she’d felt last night was very real, and she needed to address it.

“Last night,” she started, and immediately his posture changed. He was standing straighter, his eyes sharpening. She held her hands up, trying to show that nothing bad had happened. “when I was out with some friends, one of them grabbed me by the hair, as a joke? But I couldn’t get him to let go. How do I get out of that?”   


Bucky’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, his brows furrowing as he considered her question. He flipped open the journal, thumbing through the pages until he found his lesson plans. He reviewed the list a few times before he looked back to her.

“I...I didn’t think of that.” he replied after a moment. He seemed disappointed in himself, which immediately made Mika’s heart break. 

“That’s okay, we don’t have to today. It was just something to add to the list.” she said, trying to backtrack. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad. He’d already been so incredibly helpful so far, way more helpful than she deserved. He shook his head, his eyes looking into the middle distance instead of at her. He was thinking.

“We can do that. I just need to figure it out.” he said, his hands opening and closing as he worked through the situation. A few minutes later, he looked up with his mischievous expression. “Do you think you can throw someone over your shoulder?”

“Uh, is there like, a beginner version?” she asked hesitantly. Throwing people? She was strong, but she wasn’t that strong. “Remember, I don’t have your superhuman strength.” 

“Perhaps not. Although, you don’t need superhuman strength for that. It’s all about leverage.” he said in a calculating manner, though the glint was still in his eye.

“Square one, Bucky. Maybe next time.” she said with a grin, shaking her arms out. 

“Maybe next time.” he agreed, giving her one of his wider smiles. 

“So, if I can’t throw an adult human being, what’s my next best move?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. He took a breath, moving to the middle of the room and placing his hands on the back of his own head to mime what she was to do. 

“You want to grab the wrist or hand with both of yours, then duck and turn. It’d be difficult to maintain their grip on you when their shoulder musculature tears or if the bone breaks.” he explained, going through the motions. 

“Again, I feel like you think I’m way stronger than I am.” she said, shaking her head.

“Leverage. It’s all about working smart, not hard.” he murmured, pushing his hands back into his pockets. She noticed he was actually using his left hand some today - she wanted so badly to ask about the prosthetic, but knew that would not be a good idea. She may have some trouble when it came to social etiquette, but she knew better than to ask how someone lost an arm and gained a highly functional neuroprosthesis. 

“Alright, smarty pants, let’s try this then.” she said, stepping up to him. He gave a brief huff of a laugh at her name calling before going very still. She was used to his pauses before speaking - she figured he was taking a moment to translate everything in his head. But this seemed different.

“Do you...is it...I…” he started a few sentences, but didn’t seem to know exactly what he was trying to say. Mika tilted her head to the side, trying to read his mind and decipher what he wanted to communicate. A few moments later, a lightbulb flipped on in her mind as she remembered their previous lessons, how he always seemed to ask permission before touching her.

“Oh, go ahead.” she said, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible as she turned her back to him, flipping her hair so that the entirety of her ponytail was hanging behind her. He took a half step closer, and she could practically feel how hesitant he was.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He hadn’t reached up to take hold of her hair yet.

“Absolutely. I trust you.” she added for good measure. He was quiet for a long time before murmuring some sort of affirmation, reaching up and gently grasping her hair. He took another moment before speaking again.

“Now, grab my hand, duck, and spin.” he instructed. His voice was softer than it was previously, and she wondered if he was nervous about this. Mika suddenly felt bad again, wishing she hadn’t changed his plan for today. She should have just asked later, so that he would have time to organize a lesson. She shouldn’t have asked to do something different. But she already had, so she needed to make the best of it. 

“Like this?” she asked, gently placing her hands over his one. She could feel the tendons at his wrist, holding fast to her hair. The muscles of his hand were obviously very strong, reminding her how manual his work was and how  _ strong _ he was. She locked her hands around his as well as she could, dropping herself down and trying to turn away from him. She found she couldn’t move very easily - he was holding her back, not allowing her to turn.

“Turn towards me. That makes the muscles in the back of the shoulder take the force, and they’re much weaker than the ones in the front.” he said. She turned the other way, and this time he allowed her to move. She twisted around once, and felt his hand release. She stood up as he did, shaking his arm out ever so slightly as it rotated back to its resting position.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. He did mention tearing muscles and breaking bones. She didn’t think she had it in her, but it was one of her bigger fears to accidentally hurt Bucky during one of their sessions.

“No, I’m fine.” he said. He seemed confused, though not necessarily because she thought she’d hurt him. He almost seemed surprised that she was worried about him.

“Oh. Okay, good.” she said lamely, not knowing what else to say. How could she explain that she worried about hurting him when all he’d given her was the subtlest of cues? Even now, she questioned whether or not what she was interpreting from his vague reactions was actually what was going on in his head.

“That was a good first try.” he said, giving her one of his more encouraging smiles. He didn’t seem as uncomfortable now. Maybe he was okay with her little snafu from earlier? Or maybe now that he had a plan, he was able to focus on its implementation, rather than the spontaneity. 

“Can we try again?” she asked. He nodded, and she moved into position before he had to ask her to. “Okay, ready.” she said, hoping he would take that as her permission for him to initiate contact. Luckily he did, once again seizing hold of her ponytail. She grabbed hold of his hand and wrist, ducking and turning slowly again. Bucky’s arm twisted, and he let go of her hair as she completed her circle. She knew he was letting her win, but she was okay with it. It seemed much more likely for her to hurt him today than it had been any other time before this. The last thing she wanted was to rip his shoulder out of its socket.

“Better.” he said, giving her an approving nod. “Try it a little faster now.” 

This move took a few extra tries to build her confidence, mainly because she was so oddly concerned about hurting him. She figured it was because she couldn’t see him as she spun - in their other exercises, she could keep an eye on his face, really see where they were moving. But now she only saw the ground and his legs as she sweeped down, she couldn’t monitor his upper half at all. He kept assuring her that he was fine, even going so far as to cryptically say that he had “healed from injuries much worse than anything you could inflict.” Somehow, that didn’t make her feel any better. But Bucky had shrugged off the comment as if it were commonplace, as if she wouldn’t worry about what had happened to her friend in his past and if he was okay. 

He was starting make more remarks like that, she noticed. A few months ago, he never said one more word than he needed to get his point across. Now, even if it was minimal and vague on the details, he was starting to offer up little bits of himself. He was becoming more open. He was becoming more comfortable. Her heart suddenly swelled a little bit with affection for him; when she’d moved to Bucharest, she had no one. Her sister and her mother were still at home, Elena was off traveling, and she had moved into her tiny apartment and new job on her own. She was a small town girl in the big city, and for the first time in her life she felt shy and small and alone. Most of the time was spent at home, and when she wasn’t at home she was either at work or at the gym. And she was okay with that, she was content with that. It wasn’t the most exciting time in her life, but it could be worse. At least it was quiet, and uneventful. A welcome change from what her life had been like before.

Nicolae was her first friend. He started two months after she did, moving into the cubicle next to her with a boisterous greeting and an immediate invite to a local pub. She turned him down at first, multiple times. She just couldn’t picture herself out in the world like that again. But he was friendly, and honest, and persistent, and eventually she agreed to hang out with him and his friends. She met Hans and Jonas that night, and a few months later convinced Elena to settle in the city as well. She remembered what it was like to enjoy life again, to enjoy the company of other people. She remembered there was more to life than just making it by.

So she listened to Bucky, making her moves a little more forceful, a little more intentional. She wanted to show how she trusted him, how she valued him. She wanted him to know how good of a teacher - of a  _ friend _ \- he was. And everything was going fine. Fine, until she moved too forcefully and too intentionally. She stopped as soon as she heard the deep  _ pop _ from above her, holding her awkward position.

“Bucky?” she asked lowly. 

“Yes?” he asked in return. She had the distinct feeling he was purposefully keeping his voice level.

“Was that your shoulder?” she continued the question trend. He paused for a moment, slowly untangling his hand from her hair.

“...Yes.” he replied. Now that she wasn’t in danger of making his shoulder pop again, she snapped back into standing.  
  
“Did I hurt you? Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” she exclaimed, her hands going over her mouth before going to his shoulder. He stiffened slightly at her touch, but didn’t move away. 

“I’m fine.” he said, standing very still. She realized that she was probably too far into his personal space, and pulled her hands back. She squeezed her hands together to keep herself from reaching out and mothering him again.

“That was like, a loud pop. A really loud pop. It sounded really loud and really painful.” she continued. Her stomach was turning. She’d done it now. One of her worst fears was coming true.

Bucky, however, was cool as a cucumber. He gave her a nonchalant shrug. “I’m really fine. It didn’t hurt. Just a little crack.” he raised his arm up, his shoulder moving in a slow and controlled fashion. Mika narrowed her eyes, focusing on his face.

“Lift it again.” she said, staring at his eyes. She thought she saw a little twitch before, and she was determined to see if he was lying. Bucky may be pretty good at hiding most things, but she was determined to see the truth. He raised his arm up and down again, his face staying perfectly neutral. Too neutral.

“See? Fine.” he said, lifting one corner of his mouth in a grin. She stared at him a moment longer.

“Promise?” she asked, crossing her arms and trying to look stern instead of breaking down into tears, which is what she actually wanted to do. She had the inkling that his shoulder was hurt, but he was finding a way to play it off. Bastard. 

“Promise.” Bucky replied, giving her the serious look that made her heart skip a beat. She cleared her throat, looking down at the ground before looking back to him. 

“Okay. Good. Well, I think that’s a good place to end then, cause honestly if your shoulder made that noise again I think I’d throw up.” she said, putting a hand on her abdomen. He gave her a brief chuckle, putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Okay.” he agreed. She nodded, taking a deep breath and going back to her bag. “No yoga today?”

She paused, turning back to him. “You still wanna do yoga?” she asked. He hesitated; it seemed he wasn’t prepared for her to question his question. 

“Yes. I enjoyed it last time.” he said quietly. She dove into her bag, searching for the gloves she’d thought to find earlier in the week.

“Well then of course we’re doing yoga.” she said, pulling the gloves out and handing the left one to him. His brows knit together as he looked at it.

“What’s this for?” he asked, cautiously pulling his own glove off and slipping hers on. It was a little small, but it would work. It was odd, seeing the metal fingers like this again. He usually kept them covered nowadays.

“So your hand doesn’t slip on the mat.” she said, taking off her shoes and socks. He looked surprised that she’d given it to him, and she was sitting on the mat with her legs crossed before he even started to move to untie his boots. She smiled as he sat down across from her, folding his legs underneath him like she did.

“Ready.” he said, taking a deep breath. She tightened her ponytail, putting it back where she wanted it.

“Alright. Do you remember what we went over last time?” she asked with a smile.


	10. Customs

Bucky would die before he admitted that Mika may or may not have torn a tendon in his rotator cuff.

He didn’t  _ lie _ to her, not exactly. He said he was fine, and he was. The tear would heal, just like his body had always healed before. He was just glad that the musculoskeletal system’s redundancy allowed him to lift his arm with proper biomechanics when Mika, quite frankly, called him on his bullshit. It had been a long time since he’d tried so hard to keep his face completely neutral. He knew she didn’t mean to inflict this injury, and he also knew that she would be completely devastated if she found out. She wouldn’t understand that he had been through so many things that were  _ so much worse _ that he really couldn’t care less.

Plus, he could admit to himself that he wanted to continue their sessions. They gave him something to focus on, something to plan and execute. He rather liked teaching her; it made her world a little safer and it gave him the sense of accomplishment and atonement that helped him sleep a little longer and a little deeper at night. And if she found out about this, he had no doubt that she would suspend their training times. No, he could deal with a little bit of pain in his shoulder to maintain this arrangement. 

_ I trust you. _

Now that they were sitting quietly, her words from earlier began running around his head. When was the last time someone had trusted him? Someone who didn’t have control over his mind? 

“So today, we’re gonna go over an easy flow to help you sleep better.” she said, pulling him from his thoughts. She was sitting with her legs crossed, her arms resting gently on her knees. She had her eyes closed and was taking slow, steady breaths like she’d taught him the week prior. She opened one eye, and he suddenly felt like he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Bucky,” she said, a warning in her tone. He dutifully snapped his eyes shut, his metal arm clicking as he rotated it and rested against his knee, matching her posture. 

_ I trust you. _

It was fairly obvious, really. Here she was, sitting open and exposed, eyes closed, without a care in the world. Even with his distinct advantages in strength and fighting experience, she did not consider him a threat. He didn’t know if that made her very strong, or very stupid. He tried to clear the thoughts from his head - she took his lessons very seriously, and he needed to grant her the same respect. 

“Take in a deep breath, full and purposeful. Hold it, gather any lingering negative thoughts. Then let it out slowly, and with it the negativity.” she murmured. He almost wanted to laugh; with as many negative thoughts as he had burned into his brain, he’d be sitting here breathing until the end of time. But, he figured he needed to start somewhere, and drew air in until his ribs felt like they were going to crack. He tried to take one small negative thought ( _ my neighbor might poison me _ ) and picture it in the air in his lungs. He let the breath out slowly, imagining the thought going out with it. A little spot, floating away from his head and into the world. He took another deep breath, letting it out and pushing the spot further away. Each breath he took, he blew the spot further and further away, until he couldn’t picture it in his mind’s eye anymore. It was only one negative thought, but it was a step in the right direction. 

_ I trust you _ . 

“Good. Now, bring your hands to heart’s center.” she spoke in the same soft tone as before. It was so different from the boisterous way she usually talked; this was a different side of her, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many people got to see it. She pressed her hands together in front of her chest, and he copied the motion. The scent of her shampoo still lingered ever so slightly from their exercise before, the flowers intermittently coloring his senses. He could still feel the ghosts of her fingers on his hand and wrist, feel the distinct pressure as she grasped it. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched, but it felt different - maybe because she’d been holding onto his hand, as opposed to the other way around. Or maybe because the lesson had been made on the fly, and yet she still seemed comfortable with everything. Or maybe because the lesson had been made on the fly, yet somehow  _ he _ was still comfortable with everything.

Shit, he forgot to breathe.

He brought his focus back, listening to what Mika was saying. She had him move through a few different poses, these ones more relaxing and gentle than the ones they did last week. He didn’t mind that so much, considering the minor shoulder injury that he could currently feel knitting itself back together. Extra pain was just a nuisance to him at this point, but there was no need to aggravate it. He would never be pain free thanks to his left arm and the constant attack on it from his immune system, but at least he could limit other inputs. 

He noticed her holding in a giggle as he awkwardly tried to move into a pose she called “half-pigeon.” His jeans were not conducive to the stretching, and pinched him in places he’d rather not be pinched. The other positions he was easily able to move into, but this one proved to be a challenge.

“I think your pants are hindering you.” she said, moving back into a sitting position. “You should wear some sweatpants next time.”

“Don’t own any.” Bucky said, copying her movements again. She dropped her calm and neutral facade, fixing him with her vaguely annoyed look that she expressed when he denied knowledge or ownership of something she deemed commonplace. 

“And why not? They are practical, as well as comfortable. Right up your alley.” she said, falling back on her hands and laying her legs straight out in front of her. He envied her easy and casual position. In his mind, he tried to tell himself to copy it, just like when they were doing yoga. But it was such a tactically insufficient position that the most he could manage was allowing his spine to slouch slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs. He gave a shrug in answer to her question.

“Just didn’t think of it.” he replied. It was true; when he’d found himself in this country, he’d been limited to the clothes on his back, all of which had been taken from a hanging clothes line somewhere in the Hungarian hill country. When he started getting money, he purchased plain, durable clothing from a nondescript store close to the warehouse district. At the time, he’d been thinking about things that were easy to clean and would protect him from minor scratches or abrasions during work. She was right, he had been thinking of practicality. Comfort had not crossed his mind.

“Do you own anything besides jeans and tshirts? Be honest.” she asked, fixing him with a serious look. He didn’t understand why he would lie to her about such a trivial thing.

“Underwear. Socks.” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. He knew that she wasn’t being literal in her question, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to use some vague sarcasm. It was becoming easier nowadays, making jokes like this. They came quicker when he was with the men at work, but they were also forming faster with Mika. She rolled her eyes, finally getting up from her comfortable position on the floor.

“Alright, smart aleck. Well one day, you and I are gonna go shopping. You need something besides jeans and tshirts and underwear and socks.” she spat, as if this would be a punishment. 

“I disagree. These work fine for everything.” he quipped, getting up and following her back to where their things were piles. She started pulling on all her extra layers of clothing, and he wondered how she managed not to suffocate under all that fabric. She did seem to be cold quite often, he reasoned. After all, there was an entire basket in her apartment devoted to blankets, and she seemed to have a warm drink in her hand whenever possible. Did she have a thyroid condition, affecting her metabolism? He knew better than to ask. She let out a frustrated noise that was muffled by her scarf. She pulled the fabric away just enough to chastise him.

“Well clearly your jeans didn’t work for yoga today. And what if you need to dress fancy someday, huh? Or have an important event? Or, heaven forbid, a date?” she pointed out, picking up her bag. He pulled on his coat and backpack, following her back out onto the street.

“I don’t foresee anything of that nature happening.” he answered truthfully. “Except for the yoga.”

“Fine, then we’ll start with proper workout gear. I can convince you of everything else later.” she said quickly, ducking back into her scarf so as to limit her face’s exposure to the cold. He gave a breathy half-laugh, his heart thumping dangerously hard behind his sternum. She always spoke of plans they could make or time they could spend so casually, as if it weren’t a huge step every time they were together. And to her, he supposed, it wasn’t. Mika saw what little was left of him after seventy years under Hydra’s thumb, and was helping him build it back up bit by bit. He wondered if she knew that, or if she was under the impression she was just making a new friend. Not for the first time, he wished he knew what was going on in her head. He was used to reading people, sure, but it was short term. Focused. He was trained to analyze behaviors, track patterns, find weaknesses and exploit them. And Mika had many weaknesses, that was for sure.

_ I trust you _ . 

The words kept ringing through his head. Did she realize the effect her words had on him? At times he thought so - there were definite moments when she seemed to respond to his inner monologue. But then there were times like this, where she said something in such a matter-of-fact manner that he didn’t think she took note of what she was saying at all. Once again, he was reminded how friendship worked.

She walked very quickly back to their apartment building, but it wasn’t a speed that his long legs couldn’t keep up with. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her head down in an effort to avoid the sharp morning wind that was cutting through the streets. It was barely below freezing, he thought. Why the hurry? Her keys were out a block before they reached the door, just so she was ready to scan it as soon as she could. He was barely fast enough to pull open the door for her, allowing her entrance into the warmth of the building. He let out a chuckle as she let out an annoyed huff, stomping her feet in order to get feeling into them before beginning their ascent up the stairs.

“Coffee?” she asked as they reached the top, turning and giving him a hopeful look. His training pulled at him, begging him to run, to retreat, to avoid extra human contact.

“Sure.” he said lightly. She smiled, unlocking her door and beckoning him inside. He carefully stepped in, shutting the door quietly behind him. She tossed her bag and her shoes as she always did, then added another pile of clothing next to them as she stripped her extra layers. When she was left in her tshirt and leggings, she gestured for him to have a seat and set to making their coffee. It was extra warm in her apartment today; she must have turned on the heater. It didn’t feel bad, just...different. He suddenly remembered that he didn’t used to have a heater - he had a radiator, one that often stopped working when everyone in the building tried to also use theirs. Someone else he knew didn’t even have a radiator, instead using the oven for warmth. He couldn’t remember who it was, though.

“So what do you do when it’s hot out? Do you melt away?” she asked, placing the floral mug in front of him. Though he didn’t want to assume anything, he was beginning to feel like it was  _ his _ mug. He pushed the thought away before it could take root. Thinking of things as his -  _ his _ home,  _ his _ friend,  _ his _ mug - would lead to dangerous attachment. He ignored the fact that he’d already had many of these thoughts before, many times. Maybe, if he pretended not to notice it, then the anxiety from his training wouldn’t pull at him so hard.

“I don’t mind the heat, as long as I’m properly equipped.” he said, giving her the truth while sparing the details. “I just prefer the cold.”

“Well you are certainly tougher than me.” she said, pulling out a loaf of bread and cutting a few slices from it. The slices went in the toaster, then she grabbed her mug and hopped up to sit on the island counter adjacent to him. She equated his tolerance of extreme temperatures with toughness? Freezing weather had been the least of his concerns for the past few decades. He idly wondered if he was used to the cold because he was frozen and thawed so many times. He gave her a shrug.

“You could get used to it.” he replied. Sure, she didn’t have as much body mass as he did, but it was definitely feasible that she could learn to withstand the elements. 

“You’re right, I could. Now, whether or not I  _ would _ ,” she drew out the word for dramatic effect, giving him a pointed look. “that is an entirely different story.” 

He moved his eyebrows in a vague  _ oh well _ gesture, silently agreeing that it would, in fact, take her unwavering participation. He decided to change the subject, thinking back to their time earlier. “Your friend, last night. Did they hurt you?”

She seemed confused by his question, tilting her head to the side and taking a sip of her drink before answering. “No, no he didn’t hurt me. He was just being annoying. Again.” she said, her lip lifting in an almost-snarl, though she was too good natured for it to be threatening.

“If he’s annoying, why do you spend time with him?” he asked. While he had no concept of quality time, he found most people eventually came to the conclusion that it was not worth it to waste time doing things they didn’t enjoy. It was her turn to shrug.

“It’s not usually by choice. He’s good friends with one of my good friends, so we usually end up at the same places. When we first met I thought he was good looking and nice and a little crass, but manageable. Now he just drives me up a wall most of the time. Just something about him makes me uncomfortable.” she said, looking down at her cup instead of at him. She was a little hesitant as she spoke, which wasn’t like her. It was almost as if she hadn’t spoken these thoughts aloud before. She shook her head, as if clearing them from her mind. “But it’s not a big deal.”

“Always trust your instincts.” he said seriously. She may not always make the most tactically sound decisions, but she had good intuition. She could read people very well, probably better than she even realized. And if there was one thing he couldn’t teach, it was instinct. She gave a dry laugh.

“My instincts are very rarely correct.” she said as the toaster dinged. She was wrong, of course. But she sounded like she was thinking of a specific incident, and he couldn’t very well present a contradicting statement without knowing all the information. 

“I don’t believe that.” he said instead. That sounded like a proper response in this situation. It was close enough to the truth. 

“Agree to disagree.” she said, taking the toast from its home and putting it on a plate. The plate went between their two spots, and she paused to grab various condiments before returning to her seat on the island. He wondered if she ever sat on the chair. “Breakfast?” 

“Thank you.” he said. His mind told him that he didn’t need the extra nutrition, that the protein bar he’d eaten this morning would more than suffice. But what if, he thought, he just ate it? Because he wanted to? He took one slice of toast and eyed the glass jars in front of him. He recognized the butter, the jam, and even the peanut butter, but there was a mysterious deep brown spread that he didn’t recognize. It didn’t quite smell like chocolate, but he couldn’t quite discern the scent. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to it.

“Mm! Nutella.” Mika said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the fact that she’d already taken a large bite of toast and jam. Bucky furrowed his brows, wondering for the hundredth time if he’d missed something in translation.

“What’s in it?” he asked. He knew he could (probably) trust Mika not to poison him (intentionally), but he couldn’t count on her for food choices. Her formidable sweet tooth usually biased her towards things that were not his preference. She held up a finger, signalling for him to wait as she finished her bite and swallowed.

“Hazelnuts and chocolate. You can try it if you want, but I don’t think you’ll like it.” she said honestly, taking another bite of her toast. He nodded, reaching instead for the plain butter and smearing it on the piece of bread he had. Even if he had his protein bar earlier in the day, this simple toast and butter was somehow much more satisfying. The bread, though, set it apart. He didn’t think he’d had bread like this before.

“This is really good.” he decided to voice his opinions out loud, holding up the toast. He knew there was a follow up question he was supposed to ask, but it wasn’t coming to him. Mika smiled.

“Thanks, I made it myself.” she said, taking another bite of her own. That surprised him.

“I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” he asked. He distinctly remembered her stating that cooking was not something she was good at. But now that he thought about it, he’d sampled multiple things that she’d made, and while most of them were too sweet, they were far from inedible.

“Oh, no I can’t cook. Cooking is an art, and I am zero percent artistic. Baking though? Baking is a science. And I can handle science.” she replied. Her argument made sense, he thought, taking another bite of the toast. But this level of quality was definitely impressive. He considered asking her if he could have some to take home, or if she could show him how to make it, but the questions stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to burden her with favors. “When’s your next night off work?” she asked lightly, delicately wiping some jam from the corner of her mouth and interrupting his train of thought. He knew she was simply making conversation, but it still made his nerves pick up slightly. He had to remind himself that it was okay if Mika knew bits and pieces of his schedule, that she (probably) wouldn’t use the information to harm him.

“Monday.” he answered, taking a long drink of his coffee. The guys would be extra grumpy tonight, having to work the whole weekend. He didn’t like working the weekend either, but that was really because their shift usually ended around the time that most people were going home from the bars. The extra foot traffic from inebriated groups made the walk back to his apartment building a little more difficult. 

“Come watch another movie! Unless you’ve already got plans. Or if you don’t want to. It is your night off, after all.” she rambled slightly before pressing her lips together, moving to dress another piece of toast. This time, she covered it with the nutella. He finished his coffee as he considered her question. As per usual, the alarms were going off in his head, his gut telling him to run away and avoid. It kind of pissed him off that they still rang as instantaneously as they always had. Though they were getting easier and easier to ignore.

“Sounds good. I’ll bring the pizza this time.” he stated. He remembered the design of the pizza shop from last week, its name emblazoned on the box. 

“You don’t have to, it’s no bother.” Mika said, finishing off her second piece of toast. She dusted the crumbs from her fingers onto the side of the plate. There was still one piece of toast there, but he didn’t want to take it. Somehow it felt rude.

“What toppings would you like?” he asked, ignoring her response. She had purchased the pizza last time, it was only natural that he would supply it this time. This, he vaguely understood, was what friends did. She pursed her lips, seemingly trying to figure out if she could fight him on this. She couldn’t, of course.

“Well, it depends. Where are you getting it from?” she finally asked, crossing her legs. She pushed the plate with the last toast his way, gesturing for him to take it. Again, his mind told him he didn’t need it. Excess nutrition was never allowed before. With a hesitant hand, he picked it up. He seriously considered going for the jam; it seemed to be made of raspberries, which had the potential to cut through the sweetness of the sugar used to make it. He should try it, he reasoned. But when it came down to it, he reached for the butter again, putting a thin layer over the bread.

“I was planning to get it from the same place.” he said. He couldn’t remember the exact name of it, but he remembered the sign. It was the same as the outside of the store, a couple kilometers southwest of the apartments. He tucked in to his toast, waiting for her answer to his question. She sat up a little straighter, holding her mug in one hand and gesturing emphatically with the other.

“Then I definitely recommend the margherita pizza. Very simple, with tomatoes and mozzarella and basil, but it’s simply perfect. That’s my favorite one. But honestly, you can’t go wrong with anything there, I’ve never had a pizza I haven’t liked.” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “So you just get what your heart desires.”

He gave one brief huff of a laugh, getting up and putting his mug in the sink. “Got it. Six o’clock?” he asked, reinforcing their plans before he could have time to back out of them. 

“Let’s make it seven, if that’s alright? I’ll probably have to work until six.” she requested, watching him over the rim of her cup as he moved to the door. His stomach twisted slightly at the change in plans, but he willed himself to keep his voice even. It was a one hour difference, it wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“Seven o’clock then. Thank you for breakfast.” he said, giving her a small smile. Between the homemade bread and the coffee, he felt a warmth that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. But maybe that was just the heater kicking on.

“Any time. See you Monday.” she said, giving him a bright smile in return. He stepped out of her apartment and into the hallway, spotting her sliding off the counter as the door closed behind him. He stood in the hall for a few moments until he heard her lock the door behind him. He took a deep breath, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets before going down the stairs. It was time to get groceries.

When Monday rolled around, Bucky realized he wasn’t quite sure how long it would take to get pizza. So, like any good assassin turned normal person trying to answer a question, he decided to do some research. 

There was a chain coffee shop across from the pizzeria with outdoor seating and a relatively introverted clientele. He often saw the same few people sitting there, with their laptops and books and headphones, stuck in their own little world as they worked on whatever they were working on. Due to the plunge in temperature, no one was outside today. That would make it easier for him. He purchased a large cup of coffee (though they didn’t call it large) and set up with his newspaper and his journal, making sure his posture came off casual and uninterested. Then, he started his notes. 

_ Red coat, black boots: 1639 -  _

He wrote this in his journal, taking note of a woman walking into the pizza shop. He placed his pen in the spine of the journal and closed it, pretending to go back to the crossword in front of him. He knew very few of the answers, considering his limitations in pop culture knowledge and Romanian traditions. But that didn’t matter. The woman in the red coat left the pizza place twenty-eight minutes later, carrying two large boxes with her. He clocked her exit time in the journal, closing it again. He filled in one answer on the crossword that he actually knew.

Two teenagers with skateboards came next, though Bucky barely had time to note their entrance in the journal before they strolled back out, a single slice in hand. He put a single line through the annotation and returned to waiting. That was the thing about reconnaissance - there was a lot of waiting involved. The next person was a middle aged man in a business suit and heavy black coat; he was in and out of the shop in twenty-two minutes, with only one box in his hands. 

“Refill?” came a female voice. A young woman in a green apron stood in front of him, a coffee carafe in her hands. Bucky noted another man walking into the pizza place and estimated the time, turning his eyes to the woman in front of him and giving her a small smile. It felt less forced than a few months ago. 

“Yes, please.” he said softly, pushing his cup towards her. She gave him a bright smile, pouring coffee until the cup was filled to the brim. “Thank you.”   


“Horah.” she said, confusing him greatly. The tag on her apron said Nan, which he assumed was her name. He didn’t understand what  _ horah _ had to do with anything.

“I’m sorry?” he asked. Was that a code word? Was she signalling to someone? His eyes darted around, trying to keep track of anything that moved while also keeping an eye on the supposed waitress in from of him. He expected attackers to come out of every corner. He assumed that he had been found.

“Four-down.” she said, pointing at his crossword puzzle. “‘A circle dance’ is a horah.” 

He took a deep breath, trying to regulate the sympathetic response that his adrenaline had enacted. Not a codeword, then. “Oh. Thank you.” he said, giving her another smile. This one didn’t feel as natural as the first, likely due to his heightened state. She gave him another grin, tossing her reddish ponytail over her shoulder before turning and going back inside. He furrowed his brows for a moment, trying to make sense of the interaction before carefully penning the word into the boxes. Everything was suddenly very loud, his vision sharper than it was a few minutes ago. He took a drink of his coffee, willing his hand to be steady and focusing on the taste of it. This was the worst emergency response he’d had in a while, and he had to focus hard on the feeling of his hand on the mug, the air moving in his lungs. If he could control his breathing, he could control his heart rate. And if he could control his heart rate, he could control everything else. It took him at least ten minutes, but he was able to return to a homeostatic state. He didn’t even have to punch anything or run or rip his sheets (which reminded him, he needed to buy new ones, again). As the shiny haze cleared from his mind, he felt tired, but proud of himself. 

It was a quarter past six when he decided to venture across the street to the pizza place. It was busier than he’d anticipated, which made him a little nervous. The patrons moved around him easily, as if the narrow building with too many chairs and dangerously hot ovens wasn’t a logistical nightmare. He followed a young man with a small child inside, observing their movements in an effort to learn the customs. Their first act was to step up to the counter, greeting the cashier with a smile and polite words. He stood a few feet behind them, waiting his turn in line. The young man placed his order and gave the cashier a credit card, also giving him his name for the order. That made sense, Bucky realized, even if the idea made him nervous. A name attached to the order would prevent mixups. 

He tried to look at the various options on the menu, but found the magnitude of them a bit overwhelming. Mika had said that any choice was a good one, but he didn’t feel comfortable making an educated decision with so many variables. He decided to stick to the one she’d mentioned before, practicing the verbiage as he waited for his turn.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” the cashier asked. He gave his polite smile, taking one last glance at the menu before turning back to him.

“One large margherita pizza, please.” he said, raising the volume of his voice slightly so that he could be heard over the busy restaurant. The cashier smiled and nodded, telling him his total. He handed over a few bills, and when the kid asked for a name for the order, he told him, “Bucky.” 

It took twenty-one minutes for his pizza to be ready, another man in the back of the restaurant calling his name loudly when it was ready. He tried to hide the involuntary flinch at it, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. He gave the other man a polite smile too, accepting the warm box from him with a quiet “thank you.” 

He walked home as quickly as possible, not because the cold bothered him, but because he was afraid that the pizza would be too cold upon his arrival at the apartments. The box still felt relatively warm once he entered the heated entryway, so he hoped he’d been fast enough. He began the ascent to the top floor, hearing a door open and close above him as he neared it. He checked his watch and found he was a few minutes early; Mika must have just gotten home from work. He reached the top floor and stood between their two doors, kind of at a loss of what to do. Should he go to his apartment, and wait the eleven minutes until seven o’clock? Or should he simply go straight to Mika’s, and hope she was okay with him arriving before their scheduled time? He could hear her pacing around the apartment, her voice carrying through the thin walls. He couldn’t hear another voice answering her - either she was on the phone, or talking with herself. There was a lull of silence, and he assumed the conversation, whoever it was with, was finished. With determination, he went and knocked on her door, figuring that at worst she would simply ask him to come back in a few minutes.

“Mum, hold on a second.” he heard her close to the door. Apparently, her conversation was not finished. He felt heat rise on the back of his neck, though he didn’t understand what it meant. She opened the door, giving him one of her customary bright smiles and gesturing for him to come in. She was dressed smartly in what must be her work clothes, and was holding her cell phone to her chest to block the sound. “Hey! Sorry, I’ll be just a moment.” 

“I can come back.” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his apartment. She waved him off, once again motioning for him to come inside. He entered her apartment, sliding the pizza on to her kitchen counter as she picked up her phone again.

“Mum listen, I have to go. No, I - no, don’t say that, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just have to - okay, go on.” she rolled her eyes, turning back to Bucky and mouthing an apology before indicating that she’d be just a minute. He held up a hand in a noncommittal gesture, hoping that it came across the way he wanted it to. She mouthed her thanks, unbuttoning her work shirt with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone to her ear and walking towards her bedroom. Bucky dropped his eyes to the floor, not wanting to disrespect her or her modesty (despite the fact that she did not seemed concerned by it). A quick glance as she entered her room revealed that she was wearing another shirt underneath the button down, likely the reason for her comfort. He stood with his hands in his pockets, listening as she rummaged through drawers and made ambiguous responses to her mother’s conversation. She sounded like she was stressed, but pretending not to be. He glanced around the kitchen, spotting the kettle on the stove. He wondered if tea would help. He filled the kettle and set it on to boil, going to the spot in the pantry where he’d seen her grab tea before. He was just pouring it into a mug to steep when she came back out of her room.

“Sorry, my mother was apparently having a day.” she said, pulling her dark hair into a messy pile on the top of her head. He handed her the mug, pouring one for himself as well. “Oh, is this for me? Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s not quite ready yet.” he said, only just then realizing that maybe he should have asked permission before rifling through her kitchen, even if it was to make tea for her. Then again, he’d done it before - she’d just been unconscious. And mildly concussed. 

“Still. You are a saint.” she said, mixing her sugar into her tea while it was still hot. She grabbed two plates from her cabinet, handing one to him. “So, what toppings did we go with?” 

“Followed your advice.” he said, opening the box. This one did look different than the one they had last week, though it was slightly more appetizing, if he was honest. He paused for a moment, wondering when his body decided that some things were more appetizing than others.

“An excellent choice.” she said in an approving tone. She wasn’t as delicate this time, piling three large slices on her plate and taking them over to her couch. 

“How was work today?” Bucky asked, figuring this was a safe topic of conversation. He put two slices on his plate, taking his tea and joining her on the sofa. He sat as close to the corner as possible, just as last time, not wanting to encroach on Mika’s personal space. She let out a groan, rolling her eyes again. 

“A right fucking mess.” she said, shaking her head. “It’s gonna be a rough month.”

“I’m sorry.” he replied. He didn’t know if this was the proper response, but it was the best one he could come up with. She shook her head.

“It’ll be fine.” she said, as if trying to convince him and herself. “Especially now that I have pizza and friendship to brighten my day.” She gave him a wide grin before folding her pizza slice and taking a big bite. 

“Glad it could make your day better.” he said softly, only acknowledging the part of her sentence referencing the food. She pointed at him with her pizza.

“Pizza and movies with friends always makes things better.” she said, curling up with her plate and using the remote to scroll through listings on the television. He made a mental note to write that down later. 

“Duly noted. What are we watching today?” he asked as she expertly scrolled through the lists in front of her. 

“Well, I figured we could go ahead and watch  _ Frozen _ , get it out of the way.” she said, though she didn’t exactly sound sad about the choice. “I will preface it by saying that it is a movie for children, primarily marketed towards little girls, so we’re not exactly the target demographic. But it is full of pop culture references, so here we are.”

“Could be worse.” he decided, giving a dry chuckle. After all he’d been through, there were so many worse things that he could do to pass the time than watch a children’s movie. 

_ Frozen _ wasn’t so bad, he decided. Sure, it wouldn’t be high on the list of things to rewatch, but it was entertaining enough for an evening. He was honestly astounded by the animation, the characters looking very three dimensional and colorful. The few animated films he’d seen when he was younger were flat and awkward and honestly a little creepy. Was this commonplace for animated films nowadays? His friend didn’t seem shocked by it at all. But the characters were distinct, and vibrant, and honestly beautiful. Even if the movie itself wasn’t exactly what he’d pick, it was still impressive. It was also amusing to watch Mika’s expressions during the film, for the opposite reason as  _ The Princess Bride _ . Since she didn’t care for this movie as much, she made comical grimaces at the more dramatic parts and rolled her eyes at the epic songs. She’d stated before that she didn’t care for the movie, and she hadn’t been lying. Yet she watched it with him anyways. He experienced an odd feeling when he thought of this, though he couldn’t put a name on it. 

After the movie, he bid her goodnight, knowing she had to get up early in the morning for work. And he had work to do tonight, opening the new bag of oranges and letting the fruits roll across the kitchen counter. He tried to relax as he picked up the first one, consciously willing his left hand to keep the pressure light and even. His fingers locked slightly as he went to peel it, and he hesitated for a moment, trying to get them to let go.

_ Let it go, let it go!  _ The song came back through his head without warning. It was a ridiculous song, really. But he hummed along, this distraction enough to get his fingers to relax and do what he wanted them to do. He gave a brief huff of a laugh at the thought, wondering what the intelligence community would think of they saw him now. 

He was the most feared assassin in the past fifty years. And he was in his kitchen, peeling oranges and singing Disney songs. 


	11. Ghosts of Christmas Present

Winter was now in full swing, ice and flurries coating nearly every surface and winds cutting through any gaps it could find. The temperature was well below freezing, and the days were short and dark. And yet, two people braved the elements, walking down the empty streets away from the city centre. Mika was in layers upon layers, dressed in an attempt to keep at least some of her body heat trapped. She was huddled against the wind, any spare bit of skin covered. Bucky, of course, was in his trusty jeans and boots, with a slightly heavier coat on than he’d been using a few weeks prior. 

“How are you not dying right now?” she asked as they entered the apartment building, her voice muffled by her scarf. She pulled it under her chin, eyeing him as he shook the precipitation from his boots before starting up the stairs.

“It’s not too bad. Been through-” he started to give his usual answer, but was interrupted by Mika’s playful sarcasm.

“Yea yea yea, you’ve been through worse. You’re a badass, I know.” she said, giving him a grin. He lifted one corner of his mouth and gave her a shrug.

“Can’t help it.” he replied, his voice barely colored with a cheeky tone. He’d been using that tone more and more over the past week or two, she noticed.

“Are you part bear? Be honest. Don’t lie to me.” she asked, making her face as serious as she could. She was getting a little winded, walking up all these stairs with an extra fifteen pounds of clothing on her. It limited her ability to render any sort of severity to her statement.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” he answered, his face looking like he was sharing an inside joke with himself. “But no, I am not part bear.” 

She stared at him from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out what his little expressions and mannerism meant. For a brief moment, she actually entertained the thought that he was lying to her and was, in fact, some sort of chimera. She shook the idea from her head, and instead just said, “I believe it. You’re not near hairy enough. Maybe like, halfway.” 

He gave her the closest thing she’d heard to an actual laugh from him, shaking his head. She analyzed his face for a second, trying to take in the features underneath his baseball cap and stubble. “What?” he asked, nervous under her gaze.

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look clean shaven. And with shorter hair.” she said honestly, though she couldn’t imagine Bucky like that. She had the distinct feeling that he would look about a decade younger, which might be one of the reasons he kept the beard. He gave the same brief laugh as before, his eyebrows disappearing under the bill of his cap.

“Hopefully very different.” he answered, which was an odd way to word it. He was also doing that more and more she noticed, giving remarks to her that didn’t quite sound correct. She was tempted to think it was something getting lost in translation, but considering how perfect his Romanian usually was, that didn’t seem right. One day she was going to ask him about it, but not today. He almost seemed comfortable with her at this point, and she didn’t want to jeopardize that. 

“Do any pictures exist? Of a fresh faced Bucky?” she asked as they reached the landing to the top floor. He shook his head. 

“Not recent ones.” he said, again making that expression like there was a joke that she didn’t get. She gave him the most vicious scowl she could manage.

“Fine. Guess that means we’ll just have to shave you and give you a fresh haircut one of these days.” she said, unlocking the door to her apartment and gesturing for him to come inside. The look on his face was completely alarmed, making her dissolve into giggles that she quickly tried to smother with her hands. He hesitated, as he always did, before following her into her apartment. She held a finger to her lips, though she wasn’t sure why - she figured that  _ quiet _ was pretty much a character trait for him at this point. He stood very still in her kitchen as she tip-toed across the apartment, closing the door to her bedroom. Her sister was still fast asleep in her bed, her internal clock still set an hour behind them. 

“Is someone in there?” Bucky asked quietly as Mika began removing her layers and depositing them in a pile next to her door. His posture had changed ever so slightly so he was standing up straighter, his feet turned more towards the door.

“My sister’s visiting for the holidays. Don’t worry, she sleeps like a rock.” she replied, the last of her winter gear falling to the floor. He gazed at her for a few moments longer before he visibly relaxed, taking his seat at the island as she went to turn the coffee maker on. She cut thick slices of bread again and put them in the toaster, as had been her habit the past couple weeks. She slid the usual condiments onto the counter, the jars bumping into a big book. Bucky eyed it; it hadn’t been here last weekend. 

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the book. Mika gave a dry laugh as the coffee maker sputtered and filled the floral mug.

“ _ Simple Recipes _ . Nicoletta bought it as a joke since apparently I’m a danger to myself or others if I have to do anything besides bake.” she said, sliding the book closer to him. “I’ve already failed the first two recipes, so I’m pretty ready to give up on it. Do you cook?” 

“I haven’t. But it may not be a bad idea.” he said, surprising her with his answer. Somehow, she had difficulty picturing him in the kitchen, flamboyantly sauteing vegetables or dramatically flipping pancakes. She suddenly had a great mental image of him dressed in a chef’s coat and hat, glaring at his fellow competitors on one of her theatrical cooking shows, and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Bucky gave her a vaguely curious look, but didn’t question her. Maybe she pulled it off.

“You can borrow it, if you like. I’m not too keen on trying any more of it, and it’ll give me an excuse not to.” she said as he flipped through the pages, the high resolution photos of different foods gleaming in her kitchen lights. His eyes flicked up to hers at that moment, his hand pausing on the page.

“Are you sure?” he asked, seemingly surprised by her offer. His thumb was moving just slightly over the corner of the page - a nervous tell? No, he must just still be thinking of turning it. Bucky didn’t have nervous tells. 

“Absolutely.” she said, sliding her own cup of coffee to the other side of the island before putting their toast on a plate and putting it between them. She took her normal seat on top of the island, spreading a generous helping of jam over one of the pieces. He turned a few more pages, taking in the colorful pictures and reading over the methods before turning his attention to breakfast.

“Thank you.” he said, carefully closing the book and pushing it to the side before picking up a slice of bread and applying a thin coat of butter. She noticed he didn’t hesitate anymore when she gave him something to eat or drink, at least not visibly; any trepidation he had about her poisoning him was undetectable. 

Even if she had vowed not to pry into his personal life, she did have one question burning inside. She went back and forth with herself, trying to build up the courage to ask him. What was the phrase, curiosity killed the cat? But then she remembered that the second half was that satisfaction brought it back. He sat quietly next to her, thoughtfully chewing on his toast as if the bread she made was the best thing he’d ever tasted. With a deep breath, she decided to take the plunge.

“What are your plans for Christmas this week?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light and casual. She quickly took a bite of toast so that she would have something to do with her hands, and to keep herself from rambling and asking any more curiosity questions. She’d bought him just a little gift - nothing big - and had been hesitant to give it to him. His brows furrowed for a moment, considering her inquiry.

“Nothing.” he said after a moment. “That’s this week?”

Mika internally smacked herself across the face. How could she just  _ assume _ that Bucky celebrated Christmas? It was a relatively common practice, yes, but that didn’t necessarily mean that everyone partook in the festivities. Looks like her Christmas gift to him was quickly going to shift into a thank you gift. 

“On Thursday.” she said, trying her damnedest to hide her chagrin at the situation. This was why she shouldn’t ask personal questions. She somehow always managed to ask the wrong ones. Bucky, however, looked unphased. 

“Oh. Guess that’s why they gave us a couple nights off.” he said. He seemed to be more concerned about missing work than missing a holiday. “I haven’t had a Christmas in a long time.” he added, his eyes focusing on the middle distance. He was wherever he went in his head when he was trying to remember something. Mika’s heart broke a little, and once again she found herself wondering what awful things Bucky had been through in the past however many years. She wanted nothing more than to give him a happy Christmas.

“Well you are more than welcome to come spend it with us.” she offered. Her mother would kill her for the impulsive invite, but she didn’t care. She prepared her second piece of toast so she didn’t have to look at him and give away how shy she felt asking this. “If you don’t mind dealing with my passive-aggressive mother and a couple of wine-drunk girls. I promise, we can be very entertaining.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, but he shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll just spend a quiet night in. I have a project now.” he replied, tapping the cookbook next to his arm. Her heart fell a little at the gentle rejection; in the six seconds between her question and his answer, she’d grown very fond of the idea of Bucky joining them for the holiday. If anyone could shut her mother down once she got started on a verbal tirade, it’d be him. She shook off the feelings, thinking that maybe next year he’d change his mind. 

“Well if it turns out good, you’ll have to let me sample it then.” she said, gesturing with her last bit of bread. She scooted the plate closer to him, trying to get him to take the last piece. 

“Deal.” he said quietly, reaching for the toast and covering it with butter. She took the opportunity to hop off the counter, going towards her bedroom.

“Since I probably won’t see you before then, let me get your Christmas present.” she said, just catching his startled look before ducking into her room. The light was just beginning to seep through the windows, and her sister yawned loudly and stretched as she entered. 

“So you really get up this early and go work out?” she mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”

“I never lie.” Mika replied, going to her dresser and grabbing the wrapped package sitting on top. “And Bucky’s still here, so if you come out make sure you dress somewhat appropriate.”

Her sister gasped dramatically. “A man? In my sister’s apartment? I’m telling mother.” she said, pushing the covers off herself and sitting up, her hair tangled at all angles. Mika rolled her eyes, throwing a somewhat clean flannel at her.

“Just don’t be embarrassing.” she said, turning back to the door.

“You do that enough on your own.” Nicoletta replied, laying back down for a moment as her sister walked out. Mika closed the door behind her, not bothering to be quiet this time.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Bucky said immediately as she entered the kitchen. She could tell he felt uncomfortable with the idea, and she did her best to play it off. He was standing now, apparently too concerned by the idea of a present that he couldn’t stay seated.

“It’s not a big deal, really. It was something you needed.” she said, presenting him with the package. He took it gingerly, as if he were afraid it was going to break - or explode. He hesitated for a long time, his eyes flicking between her and the present. “Go on, open it.” she insisted, picking up their dishes and moving them to the sink to wash. This gave her a distraction, as well as pulled her attention from Bucky. She heard him carefully tear the paper and open the box underneath it, revealing…

“Sweatpants?” he asked, holding up the heather grey trousers. 

“Yep. I guessed on the size, so the receipt’s in there. And if you don’t like them, it won’t hurt my feelings. I just figured you could use a pair.” she explained. She clamped her mouth shut, trying to prevent any more unnecessary rambling. She finally turned to see that he was smiling - a real, genuine smile. 

“I like them. Thank you.” he said, folding them back into the box so they were in a neat little package again.

“You’re very welcome. I hope they’re comfortable.” she replied, her heart glowing at his response. It was very risky, getting Bucky a gift. But it had paid off.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get you anything.” he said, wincing slightly. She waved him off, giving him a pointed look.

“Don’t worry about it. I saw them while I was out and had to get them for you. Christmas was really just the excuse I needed to buy them.” she said. Again, she pressed her lips together to make herself shut up. Why did she always have to overexplain things? She leaned her elbows on the island counter, trying to seem calm.

“Thank you.” he said again, the look he was giving her making a blush rise into her cheeks. Luckily she was saved by any further chances of self embarrassment by her sister slipping out of her bedroom, her hair a little more tamed and her face a little more awake.

“Good morning.” she sang, giving them a bright smile. She pulled up the sleeve of her oversized flannel, offering her hand to Bucky. “I’m Nicoletta, Mika’s sister.”

“Bucky. Nice to meet you.” he said, gently shaking her hand. She smiled again, turning to Mika and raising her eyebrows in a suggestive manner when she thought he couldn’t see. Mika sent a glare her way, willing her sister to be normal just this once. Nicoletta stuck her tongue out, going to the refrigerator. 

“Have you eaten yet? I make very good omelettes.” she said, gathering supplies from its depths.

“We just finished eating, but thank you.” he answered, giving her his polite smile. He was still standing at the corner of the island, the box and the cookbook stacked in front of him. Mika could tell that he was just a little uneasy, and the fact that he wasn’t fleeing was probably only because it was her sister. Nicoletta, however, was completely oblivious.

“You ate without me?” she exclaimed, turning to her sister with her hands on her hips. Mika perked and eyebrow, gesturing with her head towards the stove and the coffee maker.

“You’re a big girl. You can make your own breakfast.” she said, her sister making a face at her response. She said something in German that Mika didn’t understand, but made Bucky let out a brief huff of a laugh. Mika and Nicoletta both looked to him at that moment, not expecting him to understand. Nicoletta asked him a question - Mika presumed it was something along the lines of  _ you speak German? _ \- to which he replied in the affirmative. Her sister’s face lit up and she chattered excitedly, making suspicious glances and expressions in Mika’s direction. Bucky answered her with a mischievous grin, his voice a little lower as he spoke in the other language.

“Okay, I don’t like this. I feel like you’re talking about me.” Mika interrupted, gesturing between the two of them.

“Oh, because we are.” her sister said, finally switching back to a language she could understand. 

“I hate you.” she breathed out before turning her glares to Bucky. “And you, mister. Thin. Ice.”

He held up his hands in innocence. “Nothing bad. Promise.” he replied, the pitch of his voice changing ever so slightly as he switched back to Romanian. 

“Uh huh. Make sure it stays that way.” she said, giving her sister a stern look. Bucky collected his new things from the counter, backing towards the door.

“I make no promises.” Nicoletta sang, sending a conspiratory look to Bucky. Did he wink? She could have sworn he winked. She shook her head, getting her thoughts in order. Bucky was not someone who  _ winked _ . 

“At that, I’ll take my leave. Thank you for breakfast, and these.” he said softly, shyly holding up the box and the book. He held everything carefully, as if he were afraid to break them. She did notice, however, that he was using his left hand as well. He’d been using it more and more over the past couple weeks, and she wondered what had changed to make him more comfortable with it. She couldn’t ask, of course. But she was definitely curious.

“Of course! Have a happy Christmas, Bucky.” Mika said, giving him a smile and a wave. 

“You too.” he replied, his hand on the doorknob. He wasn’t holding the tension between his shoulders anymore, his posture back to being as relaxed as she’d ever seen it. 

“Nice to meet you!” Nicoletta chimed in, giving him a playful grin. He said something to her in German again, which Mika assumed was some form of  _ you as well _ , before letting himself out. The door closed silently, leaving the two sisters alone.

“I hate you.” Mika reiterated, glaring at her with as much malice as she could muster. Which really, wasn’t much. Her sister blew a kiss in her direction, going about making her omelette. 

“Relax, I’m sure your friend doesn’t think any less of you just because your little sister poked a little fun at you.” she said, humming as she mixed her ingredients with ease. She pulled out Mika’s little-used pan, setting it on the counter.

“You know I hate when you talk in languages I don’t understand. It makes me feel stupid.” Mika pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive move. 

“To be fair, you have done the same thing to me.” Nicoletta said, pointing at her with a spatula. Mika rolled her eyes.

“That was one time, and it was for work.” she reminded her. Her sister made an unamused noise, dropping toppings into the pan.

“Still counts.” she said, glaring at her sister from the corner of her eye. Mika sighed.

“It’s Christmas. I never see you. Let’s not fight.” she offered, opening her arms for a hug. Nicoletta happily moved into her embrace, squeezing her waist.

“Let’s not. Now, if you wanted a fight, then you should think about the one you and Mum would’ve had if Bucky had accepted your invitation.” she said, making Mika try and crush her with her arms. She squealed, fighting for a moment before yelling about how her breakfast was going to burn. With a laugh, Mika let her go, going to make herself some more coffee.

In the hallway, Bucky took a moment to gather his thoughts. He initially planned to go straight to the grocery store, but now he needed to make a quick stop at his apartment. He still felt an odd warmth behind his sternum that arose when Mika had presented him with the gift; he didn’t quite understand the feeling, but he figured it had something to do with affection. He smiled to himself, running his thumb over the paper that still clung to the box. He hadn’t received a Christmas present since 1942. 

Nicoletta was, at first glance, very different from her sister. Her hair fell in long, honey waves as opposed to Mika’s straight coffee-colored locks. Her face was a little rounder, her edges a little softer. She wasn’t as tall as her sister, nor as muscular. In fact, Bucky had a hard time seeing the resemblance until they both smiled. Their smile was very similar, and their laughter just as comparable. They also did the same hand motions when talking excitedly about something, and had the same intonations when they spoke. It had been a long time since he’d been in such close proximity to siblings, and honestly it was a little fascinating. He wondered if he’d ever see the two of them together again like that.

After he got groceries and returned home, he eyed the box and the book on his counter. He removed his gloves and carefully untied his boots before slipping them off, putting them in their spot next to the mattress. He removed his jeans, folding them and placing them next to the boots. They were still clean enough for another wear. He carefully pulled his new pants from the box, the cotton fabric soft against the calluses of his hand. It was even softer on the inside; after months of wearing nothing but jeans, it felt rather indulgent to have such comfortable clothing. He gave a few experimental movements of his legs, then sunk into the half-pigeon pose that had been giving him such trouble for the past couple weeks. Ah, yes. Much less pinching. 

Satisfied with both the practicality and comfort of his new clothes (he made a mental note to tell Mika she was right), he stood up and picked up the cookbook from the counter. He didn’t recognize most of the recipes, but they seemed simple enough (as the title suggested). The ones he could identify were ones he’d tried with Mika at the cafe down the street. His biggest obstacle, he realized, was that he didn’t own any kitchen utensils. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure how to operate his stove or his oven. That would have to be step one. He thought about going next door and asking Mika for instruction, but he didn’t want to be a bother; the appliance was electric, so he didn’t have to worry about any incidences with a gas line. He could figure it out on his own. 

He sat down on the floor, easily folding his legs underneath him thanks to his new outerwear. He pulled his journal and pen from the depths of his backpack and started carefully thumbing through the pages of the book. He didn’t want to keep it from her longer than he had to, figuring that she would want her possessions back eventually. Any recipes that looked simple or tasty, he copied down into his journal. That way, he’d always have a version of it, even if he didn’t have the book.

The apartment next door was quiet over the next few days, and Bucky figured that the two sisters had gone home to see their mother. In fact, the entire city seemed a little emptier than usual, the businesses closing early due to the holiday. He finally built up the determination to visit the thrift shop down the street in search of kitchen equipment, but found it closed when he arrived, a handwritten note on the door stating that the store would not be open for the next two days. He let out an annoyed breath, and figured he might as well start his nightly perimeter check a little early. Most of the businesses had similar signs on their doors, the insides quiet and dark as the night outside. The houses were either empty and silent, or had muffled sounds of holiday mirth echoing to the sidewalk. 

Bucky continued his rounds, the peaceful night actually allowing him enough tranquility to admire the lights and decorations. Normally he would encounter another pedestrian or two on the streets, but tonight they were empty. Empty, that is, until he turned onto the street with the large church. He knew it was well past one o’clock in the morning, but people were pouring from its doors, laughing and babbling as they moved quickly through the cold night air. He inconspicuously settled onto a bench, adopting a casual position and keeping a watchful eye as everyone passed by him. It must be Christmas Eve, he realized. He’d forgotten that the Catholic church would have services tonight. 

When the streets finally emptied, he stood and continued on his trek. He paused in front of the church, staring up at its spire as vague memories of Christmas pasts danced like ghosts in his brain. He remembered going with his family, and with Steve and his mother. He remembered there came a time when it was just him and Steve. Usually it would snow on Christmas Eve, but tonight the sky was cold and clear. The stars wanted to shine, glad to have a night free from the thick cloud coverage, but they were muted by the lights from the city. The door to the church opened again, and Bucky immediately prepared to flee. But it was not another deluge of church goers; no, this time it was a solitary older man in a black suit, the white of his collar shining in the darkness.

“You can come inside. It’s warmer.” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and pressing his arms to the sides of his body in an effort to keep in some warmth. Bucky was startled; of all the things he expected the man to say, that wasn’t it. He couldn’t formulate a response - he didn’t know what to say. The man continued, “I’ve seen you stop here before, from my window. But you never come inside.” He pointed across the street to a small house, it large windows facing the church.

“I don’t think I should.” Bucky replied, his response more honest than normal. This was a man of God, and even if he wasn’t sure whether or not he and God still knew each other, he couldn’t lie to this man. 

“And why’s that?” he asked, not bothering to hide the shiver that went through him as a sharp winter wind cut through. Once again, Bucky found himself short on words. What could he tell this man? That he’d spent the last seventy years periodically assassinating for a rogue Nazi organization? That he’d betrayed home and country and everything he used to believe in? 

“I’ve done a lot of bad things,” is what he settled on. The man didn’t need to know the details, and Bucky didn’t want to think about them. The man shrugged, turning slightly so that the wind hit his back.

“We’ve all done bad things, son.” he said. He spoke very matter-of-factly, as if he wasn’t concerned about the sins Bucky may have committed. They stood in silence for a moment before the man spoke again, nodding his head towards the doors. “Come in, have some tea. No sermons or confessions, I promise.”

“Thank you, Father.” he replied, finally remembering the proper moniker for the man. “But I don’t belong in such a holy place.” 

The Father nodded, looking back up at the church. “Well, the services are done and I’m out of my ceremonial attire. As far as I’m concerned, this is just a building. And I’m just an old man looking for some company for Christmas.” 

Bucky’s mind whirred as he considered all the possible ways this could go wrong. The alarms in the back of his head were screaming, his muscles buzzing with adrenaline. He could run. He  _ should _ run. 

_ The Church will be there for you when no one else is, James _ . The feminine voice came to him in his mind. She’d been silent for a long time; he’d wondered if he was ever going to hear it again. It was a memory, he knew. But he still couldn’t place who it was that was speaking to him. And while the Church definitely was not there for him in his time of need, he couldn’t deny the curiosity piquing within him. Had things changed since the 40’s? Maybe this was what he needed to really bring him back to his roots, to push the Soldier away and bring back the Man.

“Tea couldn’t hurt.” he finally said, though he still didn’t move towards the doors. The old man smiled and beckoned him.

“Let’s go. My old bones can’t take the cold like they used to.” he said, turning and walking inside. Bucky put one foot on the steps, the war still waging within him even though the decision was made. Everything about this simultaneously felt familiar and alien. It made him anxious. But he also felt the need to go through with it. With purposeful movements, he walked up the steps and through the front door. 

The Father didn’t lead him into the sanctuary, though Bucky could see the high ceilings and the decorated windows through the openings. He could hear sounds from his past, music pouring from the doors. But he couldn’t name the tune, or follow it. He felt like his heart was twisting in his chest, and he nearly turned and bolted. But that would be rude. And that would mean the Soldier won. He was tired of the Soldier winning, he realized. He instead followed the man to a side parlor, a small room with a fireplace and comfortable seating. The Father poured the tea and handed it to him, gesturing for him to sit in the chair closest to the door.

“Thank you, Father.” he said, gratefully taking the cup. It smelled different than the tea Mika usually made, and at first he was hesitant to drink it. But the Father sat on the couch and took a long sip of it, humming in appreciation of the warmth.

“You can call me Filip. Do you mind if I ask your name?” he said, gazing at him with a gentle smile. He shouldn’t share his name. The less people that knew him, the better. He needed to stay anonymous.

“Jones.” Bucky said after a moment, deciding to listen to his inner training at this moment. He wouldn’t lie about his circumstances, but his name he would keep to himself. One person knew his real name, and that was enough. The man nodded, as if he knew this was not the truth.

“Well, Jones, how long have you lived here?” he asked. There was no sinister glint in his eye, no tells in his posture that spoke to ill intent. Bucky was trying to believe that the man was just being kind, but he still couldn’t bring himself to trust him.

“Almost six months.” he said truthfully. He finally took a sip of the tea, but found he didn’t like it. The Father let out a surprised noise.

“And how do you find it? Usually it’s around six months where people finally make a decision about it.” he continued. Bucky knew he was just making conversation, but the questions made him uneasy. Any time someone asked him questions, it made him uneasy.

“I like it, I think.” he replied. He would keep his answers short, to the point. He didn’t need to give the man any more information than necessary, though he had to admit that Filip did not come across as threatening. And Bucky had encountered many threatening people in his life.

“It’s a wonderful city. So full of life.” Filip said, a smile on his face as if recalling a fond memory.

“Have you lived here long?” Bucky asked him. He was willing himself to make conversation, though it was hard to make his tone of voice match the curiosity he was supposed to be feeling. This was the first time he was attempting legitimate conversation with someone besides Mika, and he felt as if he were positioned just slightly within his depth. He decided to call this a new form of training, and the focus helped him feel a just a touch more comfortable.

“Nearly all my life. I only left for my studies, and came back as soon as I could. I’ve been at this church since 1974.” he said, taking another long sip of his tea. Bucky moved his gaze from the man to his cup of tea, watching the amber liquid spin slightly in the cup as he swirled it. He was glad to have something to do with his hands. “What do you do for work?”

Bucky’s hand stilled, his eyes returning to Filip. The old man was still reclining against the back of the couch, his face gentle and encouraging.  _ Conversation _ , he reminded himself.  _ Make conversation _ . 

“I’m in the warehouse district. Just manual labor.” he said, again just giving the bare bones as an answer. Filip made an admonishing noise.

“There’s no such thing as ‘just manual labor.’” he said, giving Bucky a stern wag of a finger. “You are the foundation that the rest of the city depends on. Don’t ever forget that.” 

Bucky was stunned, not expecting this reaction from him. “Thank you.” he said quietly, looking down at his tea again. This time, it was to hide the confused look on his face. He knew his job wasn’t high in the order of things, but it worked for him. It checked the boxes.

“Of course.” he replied, finishing his tea. Bucky’s was still nearly full, and hadn’t been touched in a while. He gave a definitive nod, standing up and holding his hand out for the cup.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky said, though he didn’t know exactly what he was sorry for. He handed the full cup over to him. Filip waved his hand, returning the cups to their tray.

“I’ve been told on many occasions that my choice in tea is not a common one.” he said, stretching his arms overhead. “But thank you for sharing it with me anyways. I do believe I’ve taken enough of your time, thank you for humoring an old man on Christmas.”

Bucky was stunned. He couldn’t be serious? They’d spent maybe ten minutes with idle small talk, and he hadn’t even drank the tea. What was he thanking him for? “Thank you for the hospitality.” he said. It was the only response he could think of that wasn’t incredulous. Filip gestured to the door, and Bucky stood and exited the parlor. 

“Have a good Christmas, Jones. And feel free to stop by at any time.” Filip said, pulling open the heavy door for him. Bucky nodded, moving back out into the cold.

“Happy Christmas, Father.” he said, turning and walking down the steps before the man could answer. He needed to get home - the current situation was starting to become overwhelming. The biting wind helped distract him and calm him, the harsh and familiar feeling helping to cut through the excess stimuli. He counted his breaths as he walked, remembering the way Mika taught him during yoga. That always seemed to help, giving him something to concentrate on as his feet travelled over pavement. By the time he made it back to the apartment, it was well past three in the morning, and the walk had helped mollify the bedlam in his brain. The apartment was dark, and empty, and quiet, and exactly the way he left it.

It was not a bad interaction, he decided. Just overwhelming and unexpected, two things that he disliked. But it was not  _ bad _ . He eyed the sleeping bag on the mattress, and the cinder blocks in the corner. The newspapers on the windows dimmed the light from the streetlamps below. The mat in the kitchen hid the spot where he’d pried the floors up to hide his getaway bag. Yes, everything was exactly the way he left it.

That also included the cookbook next to the bed, and his journal on top of it. Both were open to the last page he’d looked at - the picture showing a hearty beef stew, and the recipe half-copied onto the lines of the journal. Next to the books were his new sweatpants, carefully folded and placed there until he assigned a proper spot to them. He was changing, maybe. Just a little bit.

A happy Christmas indeed.


	12. Auld Lang Syne

Mika pushed into her apartment, trying to manage her suitcase and the extra packages from her Christmas adventures with her mother and sister. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been - after all, she’d manage to only get in five fights with her mother over the course of the week they were together. Now, back home alone, her apartment suddenly seemed very quiet and a little lonely. She pulled her phone from her pocket, getting it to connect to the bluetooth speakers and starting up whatever playlist that was going in the car. She couldn’t care less what music was on, she just needed to fill the silence. 

She left her suitcase next to the door, deciding to have Future Mika deal with it. She deposited the large box of new baking tins onto her kitchen island, figuring it would be much more fun to unpack those than deal with actual responsibilities. She took the old tins out and set them next to the sink, telling herself that she needed to give them a good, thorough cleaning before donating them. And since she was getting the new ones out, she might as well break them in a little bit, especially before the New Year’s Resolutions started tomorrow. 

Halfway through the unpacking, she was distracted by her phone ringing. “Alo?” she answered after spotting Elena’s name on the caller ID.

“It’s New Year’s Eve, please tell me you’re not going to fight me on coming out tonight.” she said by way of greeting. Mika could hear the wind whistling; Elena must already be walking towards her apartment. 

“Of course not.” Mika replied emphatically, though the thought had definitely crossed her mind more than once. “In fact, I’m just about to make some snacks for us so we can end the year right and start the new one even better.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Elena said. Mika heard her thank someone, and suddenly the wind was very quiet. She must have made it into the building. “Anyway, I’ll see you in a minute. Leave your door unlocked.”

“Doesn’t seem to matter if I do or not.” Mika sighed, and Elena only laughed before hanging up. She put away the tins she wasn’t planning to use and pulled out the new baking sheets, preheating the oven before gathering her ingredients. She had just started measuring things out when Elena popped through the door. 

“Happy New Year!” she sang, entering with a flourish. She pulled off her winter wear, laying them over one of the chairs. She had already donned her black, sparkly dress for the evening, and while her shoes were a little more practical for the weather, they were still tall. 

“It’s not the new year yet.” Mika pointed out, continuing with her mixes. Elena collapsed onto the stool at the island, resting her chin in her hand and heaving a mournful sigh.

“Close enough.” she said, eyeing the bowls in front of her. “What are we making?”   


“‘We’?” she asked with a perked eyebrow. “ _ I _ am making pastries. You, on the other hand, are watching.” 

“Supervising, I’m supervising.” Elena corrected, getting up and pulling the kettle from its spot on the counter and filling it. “And I’m making tea.”

“Ah yes, a decision that only someone in your esteemed position could make.” Mika teased, finishing combining her dough and putting it in the refrigerator. 

“Well one of us has to work around here. Look at you, no pastry in sight.” she pointed out, crossing her arms. She tried to make her pose intimidating, but it didn’t work. “I have to keep you in line.”

“It has to chill. In the meantime, come help me pick out an outfit. I want to make sure to start the new year off right.” she distracted her, pulling her into her bedroom. They both ignored the massive mess that remained from her slumber party with Nicoletta, picking their way through Mika’s closet until they created a suitable ensemble. They passed the time gabbing and gossipping, discussing both Elena’s current science projects and her current flirtation with the guy from IT. Mika carefully turned and chilled her pastry until it built up enough layers for her to work with, then proceeded to carefully cut her pastries while Elena carefully poured them some spiced wine. Cream cheese and fruit were arranged on the artfully cut pastry squares, and a few minutes later her apartment held the wonderful scent of spices and baked goods.

“Is your handsome neighbor man coming out with us?” Elena asked, ignoring how hot the treats were straight out of the oven and juggling it between her hands until it cooled enough to hold.

“I don’t think Bucky really believes in going out.” Mika replied, not really blaming him. If it weren’t a holiday, she would definitely prefer to be at home as well. But it was New Year’s Eve, and she needed to go out and celebrate. That’s what she kept telling herself, at least. 

“But you won’t know for sure unless you ask him.” she pestered, talking with her mouth full. She still held the pastry by the tips of her fingers, but was determined to eat it post haste, temperature be damned. “I’m trying to get you a date here.”

“I don’t think he believes in dating either. And if he did, I’m approximately ninety percent sure he would not be interested in me. But besides all that, he is, in fact, just a friend.” she retorted, trying to halt this train of thought that her friend was on. She meant well, but Mika was not in a place to try and date anybody, and she knew Bucky was not either.

“Fine. Well you should still invite your  _ friend _ out with us. To be polite.” she persisted, finally finishing her treat and grabbing another. Mika grabbed one as well, chewing thoughtfully as she considered Elena’s point. If Bucky wasn’t celebrating Christmas, then odds are he wasn’t celebrating New Year’s. And he probably preferred to stay home. But he was still relatively new in town, and may not have many friends yet. If there was a small chance that he was hoping to celebrate...

Maybe it didn’t hurt to ask.

“Guess I could, just in case.” she said, taking one of the pastries and cutting it in half. She slid it on to a napkin and ignored Elena’s smug, victorious look as she walked out of her apartment and across the hall. It occurred to her, standing in front of his door, that she had no idea if Bucky was home. He could be out. Or, even worse, he could be there. She suddenly felt shy, even though it was  _ just Bucky _ and she was  _ just asking _ if he wanted to come out with her friends tonight. She steeled her resolve, reminding herself that the worst he could say was no, and that they would still be friends, and that nothing would change. He’d told her no before, and the world hadn’t ended. Finally, she knocked. 

There was silence for a long time, so long that she figured he wasn’t home. But then she heard the lock quietly turning, and soon the door opened. Bucky was a little more at ease than the last time she’d called on him like this, resting against the doorframe and giving her that same small smile he always did. His left arm, she noticed, was still hidden behind the door.

“Everything alright?” he asked. There was that vague concern behind his eyes, the one that he wore when there was any uncertainty in a situation. Though he still leaned against the door, his feet were angled just right to move if the need arose.

“Absolutely.” she said instantly, trying to reassure him. His posture did relax somewhat - as much as it ever did. “Two things...actually, three things, now that I think about it.”

His eyebrows rose, a subtle look of surprise crossing his face. “Let’s hear it.” he said, his tone light and encouraging. He even gave her a little smile again. 

“First of all, try this.” she replied, holding up the half dessert. Bucky gave her a mildly annoyed look, but picked it up and took a bite of it anyway. He didn’t grimace, which was a good sign, but he didn’t finish the bit, which wasn’t as good of a sign.

“The pastry is good, but the filling is too sweet. I’m sorry.” he said. Mika’s face lit up in triumph as she plucked the remaining pastry from his hand, popping it in her mouth.

“One step closer!” she exclaimed. “Okay second, we’re going out to the pub tonight for New Year’s. You wanna come with us?” 

In his defense, he did actually contemplate her offer for a few seconds before saying, “I think I’m just going to stay in tonight. Thank you.” He looked apologetic, his voice quiet and hesitant. Mika shrugged, trying extra hard to appear nonchalant.

“That’s what I figured, but I wanted to ask just in case.” she said. “In that case, do you want to work out in the morning? Start the new year off right?” 

He considered her question for a moment, and she was worried that maybe she was being a little too forward. But then he grinned and said, “We can do that. Make up for last weekend.” 

Mika felt relieved as he agreed, a little weight lifting from her shoulders. “Perfect. I’ll be tired, but I’ll make it work. Thanks, Bucky.”

“Anytime. Oh, wait here.” he seemed to have remembered something, ducking back into his apartment. She was confused for a moment; this seemed unlike him, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. He came back with a chocolate cupcake, smartly decorated in red frosting and nestled in a green tissue paper cup that opened like leaves. Little pearls - which she assumed were edible - were pressed into the frosting. “They’ve been selling them for the past week at the bakery. Today was the last day. I thought you might enjoy one.”

She was floored. Bucky was a very generous person, yes. But he wasn’t ever one for surprises, even small ones like this. Everything Bucky did was planned, except when she was a bit of an asshole and asked him to change it. Mika felt her cheeks flush as she took the sweet from him, her voice caught in her throat for a moment.

“Thank you, it looks amazing.” she said, her heart burning with affection. For the first time, she had no doubts that they were friends. “That was very sweet of you.”

He shrugged off the compliment, suddenly looking modest. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, a nervous gesture that she’d never seen him do before. It was like he was another version of himself, a version that he usually kept locked away. “I hope you like it.” he murmured.

“I’m sure I will. Thank you, so much.” she said. She wanted desperately to hug him, but didn’t think he would appreciate the gesture. Instead she just smiled brightly, and offered him what he really wanted - a way out of this conversation. “It’ll be a perfect way to start the new year. Have a good night, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you in the morning.” he said, his voice calm and assuring as it always was. She gave him one last smile before turning and going back to her apartment, and could have sworn she heard him let out a breath behind her. Elena was finishing the last of the wine straight from the bottle, packing the few pastries left into a little container to take to the pub.

“So? What did he say?” she asked, dancing along to the music playing through the speakers. In Mika’s absence, she’d hijacked the bluetooth connection and changed the selection to something a little more upbeat.

“Said he was gonna stay in tonight, just like I thought he would.” she replied, going into her room to change. She strategically left out that they had plans for the morning - she knew her friend would never leave her alone in that case. Elena booed hysterically from the kitchen.

“One day he needs to come hang out with us.” she complained, coming into the bedroom and flopping onto the bed while Mika did her makeup in the bathroom. 

“I agree. But he’s shy and suspicious, you’ve got to let him warm up first.” she explained. She neglected to tell her how Bucky didn’t like crowds, or strangers, or new situations, and thus would probably never agree to go to the pub. She’d let Elena hold out her hope a little longer. 

“Oh, he’s so dark and tortured.” she said dramatically, flipping around so she was laying on her stomach. “Maybe he’s like a spy or something, and he has to live undercover. You could be compromising his operation by being his friend.”

Mika let out a very lady-like snort. “Pretty sure he’s just been through some shit and wants to live a quiet life now.” she said, pulling out her curling iron and carefully working it through her hair. Though she had to admit, the spy thing didn’t seem...unlikely. She shook her head, clearing her mind of the thoughts before they could take hold. She did  _ not _ need to envisage her neighbor as some sort of secret agent.

“Pretty sure he’s a spy. Oh my god, what if you end up like one of those action-adventure rom-com girls? You’d look so good in leather pants on a motorcycle.” Elena said, gasping at the thought. 

“How much of that wine did you have?” she asked, laughing at her friend’s antics. She always wondered if Elena’s talents weren’t better suited for the stage than the science lab.

“Enough to start writing a screenplay in my head starring you and your neighbor.” she replied, hopping off the bed to find shoes for Mika to wear. 

“Is it gonna be a huge summer blockbuster? Is it gonna make me millions? I’d love to retire by thirty.” she added, finishing with the curling iron and going to take the shoes from Elena. With everything set, they layered their winter clothes on and trudged through the ice and snow to the pub.

It was already packed by the time they got there, and patrons were less likely to leave due to the weather conditions outside. Mika and Elena pushed their way to the bar, waiting patiently for Hans to have a moment for them. He was in the zone, handing out drinks and taking money like a machine. When he finally reached his friends, he let out a long, tired sigh.

“It’s barely ten o’clock, and I’m already about to pass out.” he said, already mixing their drinks even though they hadn’t even said hello. 

“Here, you need some sugar.” Mika said, pulling the tupperware of pastries from her purse and passing them over the bar to him. He took it and paused, staring at the desserts in wonder before turning back to the girls.

“Bless you. First drink is on the house tonight.” he said, popping the top open and eating an entire pastry in one bite. With his renewed energy, he finished their drinks and handed them over. The girls took them gratefully, leaving cash on the bar top when he wasn’t looking and walking to the table where their friends were at. Mika was glad to see that Alexei was either not there yet or wasn’t coming; she was not willing to deal with his shenanigans tonight. 

“Finally! Thought you two were never going to make it.” Nicolae said, holding his drink up in a cheers as they sat down. 

“We had to be fashionably late, of course.” Elena said, taking the last of his chips and beginning to munch on them. 

“Left me alone with these two assholes is what you did.” Maria said, giving them the most demoralizing glare she could. She couldn’t hold it long, her smile breaking as Nicolae and Jonas shouted in resentment.

“We are nothing but perfect gentlemen.” Jonas said indignantly, making an innocent face. Nicolae matched him, both of them trying to garner any sort of pity from the group. Maria wiped the condensation from her drink, sweeping her hand across their faces and breaking their guiltless facades. The girls laughed as the boys sputtered, ranting about trust and friendship and utter betrayal. 

They stayed at the table most of the night, happy to just sit and chatter and not run the risk of losing their spots. Hans stopped by when he could, dropping off drinks and taking a seat for a few moments. This was, by far, the craziest night of the year for him and the pub. Mika and Elena had tried time and again to volunteer for the night, but he always turned them down. Usually he said something about wanting them to enjoy the holiday.

“You should get some extra help.” Elena said as the man crumpled into a chair next to them. She rubbed his back fondly as he rested his head on his arms, his fatigue evident in both his face and his posture.

“That would require me to talk to strangers and somehow trust someone without actually knowing them.” he said, his voice almost getting lost in the hubbub from the crowd.

“But you hired Agatha.” Mika pointed out, referring to the woman who ran the kitchen. She was a stern looking, middle-aged Greek woman who spoke just enough Romanian to figure out what Hans wanted her to cook, but everything always came out perfectly.

“Agatha came with the place. Sometimes I wonder if she’s just a ghost and her spirit is tied to it.” Hans said, his brows furrowing as if he’d forgotten about this hypothesis. His eyes went unfocused for a second as he did the math in his head before shaking himself out of it. “Besides, usually this sort of thing is manageable. It’s just the holiday. Speaking of, I have our finale to attend to, see you lot in a little bit.” 

He abruptly stood and left, heading through the door in the back that led to the roof. The group was silent for a moment before continuing on, figuring that Hans would return to them when the time was right. Sure enough, a half an hour later, he popped back into the pub, letting out a sharp whistle to gain everyone’s attention. The pub went eerily silent at that point, the quiet deafening after the ruckus that had been going for the past while. 

“How does he do that? He wasn’t even that loud.” Elena whispered, making Mika shrug.

“He has powers that we will never understand.” she replied, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper over the rim of her drink. 

“Okay, if everyone would go ahead and make their way to the roof, the countdown will start soon.” he said, gesturing grandly towards the door. Mika grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, slipping it on and following her friends as the herd shuffled them towards the stairs. The winter air was very cold, but at least the snow had stopped, and Hans had cleared the roof of any dangerous ice. A large cauldron of cider sat over a small flame, the drink already warm as they poured themselves glasses of it. Staticky noise from the old television perched on the table told them how much time was left until midnight. Mika and Elena hugged each other close, trying to keep some semblance of warmth between them in the winter air. 

“What are your goals for the new year, El?” Mika asked softly, taking in these last few minutes of the night. New Year’s had always been her one of her favorite holidays - it was always so bright, so optimistic. It made her feel braver, somehow.

“Eat more, drink less, fall in love a couple times...the usual. Oh! And to submit my consideration to be part of the research on antibiotics and superbugs.” she said, giving an emphatic nod to solidify her statement.

“You better submit that, you’d be perfect for the project.” she said encouragingly, giving her friend a squeeze.

“Mika, you know nothing about antibiotics or superbugs.” she reminded her, her tone only slightly condescending.

“Perhaps not. But I do know you, and you’re brilliant, so I stand by my statement.” she said, giving her a smug grin. Elena smirked back, huddling in a little closer to her.

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” she said, taking a sip from her cup. “What about you? Big plans for the new year?”

“I want to make everything from the French pastry book that Nicoletta got me for my birthday. And I want to move to a different department at work. And maybe learn how to quilt.” she decided, gazing off into the distance as she settled on her targets.

“Quilt?” she asked, surprised at the ambition. “Do you even own a sewing machine?”

“That’s step one in the plan.” she replied, resting her cheek against the top of her friend’s head. 

“And why the sudden interest in quilting?” Elena prompted further. Mika shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just seems like a good skill to have.” she said. Truth be told she had little to no crafting skills, but she did like blankets and was good at math. She could figure out the rest later. 

With a minute left until midnight, Hans finally reappeared from the pub below. He crawled across a wooden plank to the roof next door, pulling two long lighters from his pockets as the final countdown started on the television. Everyone called out the numbers as they passed, the tension building as the clock ticked forward. A loud cheer rang out as it reached zero, the sound echoing back to them from other parts of the city. Kisses were pressed to cheeks and drinks were finished, the celebrations interrupted by fireworks blasting into the sky from the rooftop next door. 

Mika watched with tipsy wonder as the brilliant rockets shot into the air, the sparkles raining down above them in a dazzling display. The colors reflected off any shining surface, painting the world in a kaleidoscope of light. She felt the  _ boom _ as each one exploded, jumping every time even though she knew it was coming, her heart swelling at the dazzling spectacle. When the show was over, they returned to the pub, though Mika kept her coat on and stayed standing, even though her friends returned to their seats at the table. She bid her goodbyes and gave her last kisses before returning to the cold and trudging home, the continued fireworks from other parts of the city lighting her path. 

When she finally made it to her floor, she paused in front of Bucky’s door, wondering if she should knock again and wish him a happy new year. She even had her hand up, poised to tap against it. At the last minute, she remembered his words about wanting to spend a quiet night in. Maybe - hopefully - he was already asleep. As he should be. As  _ she _ should be. She put her hand down, instead going to her own door and letting herself in. Her Christmas cupcake still sat proudly on the counter, the little pearls shining in the low light from her lamp. She smiled, carefully picking it up and peeling the green tissue from it. The cake was still moist and chocolatey, the buttercream soft and cinnamon flavored. It was the perfect end to the night. She washed up just enough to be presentable in the morning before tumbling into bed, checking multiple times to make sure her alarm was still set. It would be a good year, she concluded.

Bucky tried to perform his perimeter rounding that night, after his conversation with Mika. But the streets were packed, the traffic flow completely altered compared to anything he’d seen before. So he’d retreated to his apartment, deciding that maybe he should actually do what he said he was going to do - spend the night in. He could still hear the sounds echoing from the streets below as the entire city wandered out for the holiday celebrations. So many people would skew his senses, and also increase the likelihood of his face getting recognized. Most everyone had smartphones these days, and more than once he’d almost been caught in the background as someone took a picture of themselves. What were those called? Selvesies?

No, there would be a change of plans for tonight. Tonight would be his first attempt at cooking. With most everyone in the apartment building out and about, he didn’t have to worry about anyone going in search of a burning smell - especially his very observant neighbor. The stove had taken him a few minutes to figure out, but the buttons were relatively intuitive. He’d figured out much more complicated machinery before.

Pots and pans were more expensive than he thought they would be, but that didn’t deter him. He’d saved up a fair bit of cash, stowed away under the floorboards in case of emergency. The expensive part had been his grocery bill, as most of the recipes had common ingredients that he had never purchased. At least, not to his knowledge. He organized his new produce carefully on the kitchen island. Mika’s book was propped open on the corner, far from the disaster zone that was potentially brewing. The recipe seemed simple enough - as the title of the book suggested - but he was still determined to follow it dutifully. He remembered cooking from before, but it required a lot of boiling and not a lot of seasoning. The picture in his mind didn’t match the food he’d been presented with the last few months.

It started easy enough - pan over medium heat, butter in the pan. Chop onions, chop carrots, chop celery. Add to the pan and the butter. He found his metal arm was particularly adept at mincing the vegetables, though a few errant pieces did take flight when he tried to see how fast he could move the blade. He carefully sliced a clove of garlic, adding it to the pan as well. While they were cooking, he carefully measured and mixed various herbs and spices. The aromatics mixing in the air smelled different than he thought they would, but he liked it. 

He didn’t like the way it felt to hold the chicken breast in his metal hand, but he did trust it to sprinkle the seasonings over it. He carefully massaged the mixture into the chicken, and when the required time stated in the recipe passed, he placed the meat into the pan. The sizzling sound and smell of the spices filled his apartment with possibly the most positive thing that had been in there since he moved in. Eight minutes later, he took the bright green spatula he’d purchased (it was cheapest) and flipped the chicken. He checked the clock on the oven, beginning to time the second eight minutes. In the meantime, he figured he should start cleaning the mess on the counter. 

_ Boom. Pop. _

Bucky ducked down behind the kitchen island, listening as more  _ bangs _ echoed around his windows. Gunfire? It had to be gunfire. This was it, he’d been found. He bear crawled into the living room, shoving his mattress up to cover the largest window. He waited for the impact of the blasts, but they never came. Instead the sounds continued to echo around him, surrounding him and pressuring him until he was completely overwhelmed. He sank to his knees and held his head in his hands, trying to cover up the sounds as they rampaged around him. He realized the lights were the bright colors of fireworks instead of the hot white flashes from weapons, but that didn’t change anything. Instead of the slow, spiraling descent into his memories, he was violently thrust into them, his muscles seizing as the Soldier sank his claws into his mind. 

He didn’t know where he was, but it didn’t matter. The cold was surrounding him. He had his guns, and his knives. He had his tactical gear. The insurgents were already attacking him, but he didn't care. He could see the bullets before they hit him, feel them moving through the air as they rushed toward him. He moved his arm without thinking, the rounds glancing off the vibranium. They could do nothing to hurt him, to stop him. Their attempts were futile. 

A man engaged him from the left; he was easily dispensed. The Soldier grabbed the man’s gun, emptying the magazine into one of his comrades nearby. A knife sank into his leg, but he disregarded it. He removed it without hesitation and stabbed it into the neck of the man who once wielded it. Three men engaged at once, effectively distracting him from the other gunmen. He noted the lights as they blasted him with more rounds; a few of them sunk into him, but he didn't care. He didn't need to. He didn’t feel pain. 

A loud beeping cut into the memory. Beeping? There was no beeping in the Russian wilderness. The Soldier checked his perimeter, but there were no more insurgents, no more gunfire. Only the cold wind, the icy pelts raining from the sky, and that incessant, insufferable beeping. 

Bucky was suddenly brought back to himself, the fire alarm yelling at him from the middle of the room. For a moment, he completely forgot himself - forgot where he was and what he was doing. And then the pieces of his life fell back into place, and he was brought back to the present. His chicken was burning. 

The cacophony outside had stopped, the lights no longer flashing. He sprinted to the stove, pushing the pan away from the hot portion of the top. He grabbed a dish towel and fanned it at the smoke alarm, trying to get the horrendous beeping to stop. It felt like knives sinking into his aching head. When it was finally silent, he was left with nothing but inedible supper and the lingering stench of burning. He balled his fists, slamming his right hand into the wall. Pain bloomed over his knuckles, and he shook his hand out. The pain was good, he told himself. The Soldier didn’t feel pain. Only the Man did. The Man felt pain,  _ he _ felt pain. And he also felt annoyance, and disappointment, and anger. Deep, burning anger. He punched the wall again, moving and swiping the still hot pan so that it went flying across the tiny kitchen and crashed against the wall. He hands clenched again, but he stayed them this time. With the agonizing feeling of defeat, he leaned against the kitchen island, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees, idly turning his wrists. His right hand was still sore from the wall, and his left hand still felt vaguely unnatural, the same way it had felt for the past however many decades. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually he pulled himself off the floor. He meticulously cleaned the island, the cooktop, the wall, and the floor until it was spotless again. He put away his new utensils and pan, and organized his spices on the countertop. He marked the page in the book and placed it back in its place. The pulled the mattress from the wall, laying it in its place and arranging his linens. He pulled off his boots and his jeans, slipping between the layers of the sleeping bag and settling against the pillow.

_ My name is Bucky. I live in Bucharest... _

Tonight was not a good night. But maybe tomorrow would be better.


	13. Here Comes The Sun

Bucky’s breath was slow and even, his muscles actually relaxed as he laid against the mat. His muscles still burned a little from the yoga session; Mika had stepped up her lesson plans as of late, really trying to make him sweat. Of course, in turn, that meant she had to work really hard as well. He could hear her quiet, rhythmic breathing on the other side of the mat, and for a moment he thought she had fallen asleep. A sharp intake of breath alerted him that she was, in fact, still awake. It also jump started his entire body, and in a moment, he was up and scanning the area around them for potential threats. He couldn’t sense any, but Mika was pulling on her socks and her shoes more fervently than usual. 

“Oops, we were relaxing a little longer than I intended!” she said by way of explanation, stuffing the light sweatshirt she’d worn on the walk over into her bag. He guessed his expression must have given his inner thoughts away, and this helped the alarms subside. “What’s on the docket for next week, boss?”

After his heart rate returned to normal, he consulted his journal, but check marks completely filled the margin of his list. He checked the next page, but checks lined that page as well. He furrowed his brows, closing it and slipping it into his backpack. “It seems we have finished the list.” he said, pulling the straps over his shoulders. With the statement actually aloud in the open, he realized that meant there would be no excuse for them to hang out on Saturday mornings. What would that mean for their friendship? It had become a bit of a tradition over the past few months.

“What? I’ve graduated?” she asked, her expression excited. He felt like his heart descended a couple inches into his stomach, though he didn't understand why. He should be happy, his friend had made it through his curriculum. Now his training would stop pulling at him, telling him that this was wrong. Why wasn’t he happy?

“Yes, yes you have.” he said, giving her a smile. Her excitement faltered for a second, and he wondered what she was thinking. Luckily, he didn't have to try and figure it out, or wait long for any answers. For once, she spoke her mind readily.

“Does that mean we won’t have our Saturday morning workouts anymore?” she asked, her face falling for a moment. Her hands played with the strap of her gym bag, her nervous tell. It hadn’t occurred to him that she would want to continue spending time with him once their self defense course finished. Well, of course she would want to spend time with him, they were friends. But he figured they would just discontinue their sessions, and maintain their periodic movie nights. 

“I don’t have anything else to teach you.” he said. It was somewhat truth - any beginner or intermediate defensive maneuver in his repertoire. Anything else would require more advanced foundational training. 

“That is a bold faced lie.” she said, crossing her arms and putting all her weight on one hip. His blood ran cold at her words. Did she know? Did she figure out his secrets? “My memory might be a little hazy, but I remember you having some skills. You could take a guy down in one hit.”

“I thought we were only doing defensive things.” he said, trying to bring down his heart rate. Of course that was what she was talking about. What else would she be talking about? He shut down his train of thought, focusing on her.

“Well, maybe we can learn some...offense. And by ‘we,’ I of course mean me, because you obviously already know everything. About fighting, that is. And a lot of other random stuff too, which is pretty cool.” she pressed her lips together to stop the flow of words. Nine months of friendship, and she still tended to ramble whenever she asked a favor. He couldn’t hide his grin, even if there was a swirl of nerves in his stomach at the idea. He shouldn’t teach her those things. Even if he hadn’t had a flashback since New Year’s Eve, he didn't want to risk hurting her. But he also  _ liked _ their training sessions. They were the closest thing to  _ fun _ that he had. They weren’t like the other ones he’d given in the past; in fact, they felt like they were patching over those terrible memories that still haunted him at night. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. He should have said no, but that was what he said instead. Her smile brightened, and his heart returned to its normal position in his chest. 

“Absolutely! If I can be half as badass as you are, I think I’ll be set.” she said. She was gripping the strap to her bag now, but not in nervousness. He let his breath out in an almost-laugh. If only she knew that he would literally give his life for her to never experience the things that made him so  _ badass _ . 

“I’ll do the best I can.” he said, swallowing. His mouth had gone dry. Part of him was tremendously on edge, regretting this decision. The  _ what if’s _ were flying through his mind at a mile a minute, plaguing him with reasons to recant his statement. But the look on Mika’s face and her easy demeanor brought out another side of him, the side of him that wanted to hang out with his friend, the side of him that wanted to do something enjoyable. He could use this to sharpen his fundamentals and keep up his skills. At least, that’s how he tried to rationalize it to the part of his brain that was sounding the alarms. That was the part of his brain that he usually chose to ignore.

Mika gave a  _ whoop _ in excitement, looking for a moment like she wanted to hug him. She held herself back, instead raising her hand and waiting for him to smack his palm against hers. “Excellent. You are the best.” she said, which replaced the ice in his blood with warmth. “Now come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on.” 

“Late for what?” he asked. As far as he knew, there was no time limit on having coffee at her apartment. Was the coffee maker automatic now? Could it be set on a timer? Technology was incredible nowadays.

“It’s the first weekend in May, Bucky! The Farmer’s Market opens today.” she said, finally moving towards the exit. He followed her out of the gym and onto the sidewalk, the sun shining brightly on the sleepy town. She stretched her arms over her head, soaking in the light. Winter had lasted a little longer than intended, and she was just starting to get a little bit of tan on her pale skin. 

“Farmer’s Market?” he asked. Why did the farmers have their own market? Wasn’t that just, in fact, a regular market? She gave a happy sigh.

“They have the  _ best _ produce and homemade stuff around. There’s one guy who grounds his own flours, another guy who makes his own cheese, one woman fresh presses this amazing fruit juice...it’s the best weekend of the spring. You should come with me.” she said, turning and walking backwards for a moment so she could look him in the eye. He perked a single eyebrow; he was used to her random invitations by now, and was generally confident in accepting them. But this was something new, something uncharted. It was different than going to the cafe down the street, or the new coffee shop a few blocks over. 

“What kind of produce do they have?” he asked, eyeing her feet and the area behind her as she continued to walk backwards. It made him nervous. What if she tripped on something, or ran into someone? She was clearly not focusing completely on her surroundings, and she didn't seem to care. She smiled brightly, unaware as always of her precarious position.

“Anything you could possibly want.” she replied, finally turning back around and walking forward. “And they taste exponentially better than the ones you get at the store.”

“I don’t think flavor can be measured with exponents.” Bucky pointed out. After all, taste was subjective, and therefore could not be reliably quantified. Mika gave him a sour look, which made him smile again. There was something gratifying about pissing her off like that.

“It can. Trust me. I know a scientist.” she said, narrowing her eyes. They reached the apartment building, and she surprised him by going towards the door. He thought they were going shopping. Were they stopping for coffee first?

“I thought we were going to the Farmer’s Market?” he asked, though he had no idea which direction the market was. There was no set plan here, which made him nervous. Mika didn't mind spontaneity, but it tended to make him uncomfortable. The only reason he allowed it was because she had yet to lead him astray. 

“Oh, we are. I just want to change first and grab my big bag. I’m about to spend way too much money and it’s going to be totally worth it.” she said, opening the door and waiting for him. Bucky shrugged, holding the door open and following her in. Mika took the steps faster than usual today, likely due to her excitement. She unlocked her door and paused halfway in, turning back to him. “Are you changing too?” 

He looked down at his sweatpants and tshirt, deciding that he would probably be more comfortable in his jeans in boots. That way, if he needed to make a quick escape, he would be better equipped for the elements. And he should apparently also grab a bigger backpack, in case he encountered all of the produce he needed for the week. “Yes.” he replied, turning and unlocking his own door. Mika had moved into her apartment, leaving the door partially open. Should he alert her to this safety hazard? No, he didn't want scare her. If anything were to happen, he was close enough to handle the situation. 

After changing his clothing and switching his necessary items to his larger backpack, he returned to the hallway to wait. He could hear Mika humming in her apartment, the leather soles of her boots tapping against the linoleum. She’d traded her bright leggings for some dark ones, and tied a flannel shirt around her waist. A large denim bag was slung over her shoulder, the thick strap crossing over her body. “Ready?” she asked, tying her hair into a braid. He gave a curt nod.

“Ready.” he agreed. Mika pulled her door closed, then immediately stopped and grimaced. He realized there was no jingle of keys coming from her hand or her bag. “Your keys are inside, aren’t they?” he asked dryly.

“Yes. One moment, please.” she groaned, pulling a pin from her hair and picking her lock. It was scary, really, how good she was at that. He wondered if most of the locks in this building were similar, and if she had the ability to break into more apartments than just her own. He shook his head, knowing that there was no reason to believe Mika would do such a thing. He felt guilty just for letting the thought pass through his mind. Luckily he was distracted by her return, this time keys in hand. “Okay, now I’m ready to go.”

He shook his head, letting out a low chuckle and following her as she went down the stairs. One of these days, he was going to tie her keys to her wrist. Soon they were back in the sunlight, walking at a quick clip down the street. He knew these places that they were walking by, but he didn't ever remember passing by a market. Mika took a turn and they were in a small town square, the entire central part covered by tents. There were a few people milling about and a few vendors still setting up, but overall it was still relatively quiet. Giant piles of fruits, vegetables, and other goods stood attractively in the spring sun, the gentle breeze bringing with it scents of earth and cinnamon. Bucky liked the Farmer’s Market.

“Is negotiating allowed?” he asked, eyeing the stands and the people manning them. Most of them were middle aged, with their skin tanned and leathery from working in the sun. He’d never seen so many smiling people in one place, at least not that he could remember. Mika shot him an odd look, a mischievous grin in place.  
  
“You mean haggling? Not only is it allowed, it’s encouraged. Are you about to astound me with hidden bartering skills?” she asked, still smiling at him. She seemed oddly delighted at the prospect. 

“I’ve been known to make a deal or two, back in my day.” he said cryptically. She didn't need to know that by  _ back in my day _ he meant somewhere around 1941. This open-air market was typical back when he was younger, and he had distinct memories of arguing with the men behind the tables. This didn’t seem like the kind of place where he would yell until the men gave in. 

“I can’t wait to see you in action.” she said, adjusting the strap of her large bag. The first few stands had massive mountains of vegetables, dirt still clinging to bits of them. Mika wasn’t kidding; this was real, fresh food. He stopped at the first table, giving the teenage kid in front of him one of his bigger smiles. He was discreetly aware of Mika off to the side, pretending to tie her shoe but also keeping an eye on him. She was not near as subtle as she thought she was.

“What’s up?” the kid asked, giving him a fake smile as an afterthought. Based on his general posture, the shadows beneath his eyes, and his apathetic expression, Bucky assumed that his parent made him be there this morning. 

“Looks like a good crop. How much?” he asked, nodding at the piles of potatoes between them. 

“Fifteen lei.” the kid said tiredly. He did not want to be awake this early. Bucky wondered if he could use this to his advantage. Most negotiations he’d been a part of over the past while usually involved guns, knives, his metal hand, or a combination of all three. This time, he only got his words. Not his strongest area.

“For a bunch? Sold.” he said, going to reach into his pocket. He had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t what the boy meant, but it was worth a shot.

“Each.” he replied, making Bucky’s eyebrows ascend toward his hairline. 

“Each? I can pay that at the grocery store a few kilometers from here.” he said indignantly. Fifteen lei for a potato? Outrageous. 

“Go ahead.” the kid said with a shrug. Bucky tilted his head to the side, changing his expression to one of mild surprise.

“Kid, listen.” he started, which may have been a bit of a mistake.

“Not a kid.” he interrupted, even though he couldn’t be older than sixteen.

“Man, listen.” Bucky corrected. “I don’t wanna give those pricks in the city the business, but I can’t do fifteen. How’s about thirty for a bunch?” he offered. He knew it was too low, but that wasn’t really the price he was after. He’d be surprised if the kid went for it. As expected, he let out an unsatisfied noise, shaking his head.

“No way, that’s half price. Mum would literally kill me. It’s fifteen each.” he countered, not budging. This kid was tougher than expected, and he was a little out of practice. He shot a glance over to Mika, who was slightly distracted by the handmade soaps at the table next to them. She still left room in her mind to eavesdrop.

“Jesus. Look, I get it. You’ve got a business to run. But there’s mouths to feed.” he said, looking pointedly at the back of her head. The kid perked an eyebrow, looking between the two of them.

“That woman has not had any kids.” he stated. How he knew that, Bucky wasn’t sure. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how he knew it. But that was neither here nor there. He had him right where he wanted him.

“Not  _ yet _ .” he said pointedly, giving the kid a look. He watched as realization dawned on his face, then as he sighed in defeat.

“I can do ten each, but that’s as low as I can go.” he said quietly. Bucky grinned.  _ Got him _ .

“Done. I’ll take six.” he said, pulling the cash out from his pocket. The kid packaged up the potatoes and traded them for the bills, and Bucky put them into his backpack. He gave Mika a grin as she joined him again and they continued down the line.

“Playing the unborn child card. Ruthless.” she said, crossing her arms. “Although, are you saying I’ve gained weight? The holidays were a little heavy this year.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. And I said no such thing. Just merely made a few implications.” he responded. “Wasn’t my best, but it’s been a while since I’ve negotiated...like that.” 

“Still pretty good. Although I don’t know that family, so I don’t know exactly how impressive it is. It was funny to watch though, you even changed your voice.” she said, giving him an impressed look. His brows knit together. What did she mean by that? It was an odd comment. She usually didn’t make the odd comments - that part of their friendship was reserved for him.

“What?” he asked, hoping she would provide clarification. She raised her hands in an  _ I don’t know _ gesture, making the accompanying noise. 

“Your accent changed.” she said, as if the answer were obvious. 

“No it didn’t.” he said. She had to be teasing him. But her face didn’t betray any hidden meaning, which she usually had difficulty hiding. Was she serious?

“Yea it did. It sounded...” she insisted. She thought for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. “...like, harder? Like you were talking with your tongue against your teeth.”

He’d heard that description before, a long time ago.  _ You boys from Brooklyn, always talking with your tongues on your teeth. _ The voice in the memory was British, but he couldn’t remember who’d said that to him. It made sense - the last time he’d done any negotiation as himself, it had been at the markets in New York.

“Guess it just didn’t carry over.” he said with a shrug. He wasn’t as alarmed as he used to be when she made observations like that - he’d realized many months ago that if anyone was going to notice his odd quirks, it was going to be Mika. She would make a good spy, if the situation ever arose. Of course, he hoped she’d never need to be one.

She didn’t give a second thought to her observation, instead being distracted by a stand with boxes upon boxes of plums, pears, and peaches. She pulled the tie from the end of her braid, shaking the waves out so they fell over her shoulders. She gave him that same troublemaker grin. “Now, let me show you how  _ I _ do it.” 

“By all means.” he said, casually pulling to a stop between two booths and looking away. This was one of the few moments he wished he had a phone, that way he’d have more of a reason to be pausing in this spot. Mika sauntered up to the booth, giving a warm and emphatic greeting to the forty-something year old man behind it. The man knew her by name, and came out from behind his table to embrace her and kiss both of her cheeks. Bucky expected the man to move away, but he stayed next to her, his arm staying over her shoulders and her hand staying on the small of his back. 

“How’s the family? How’s your daughter?” she asked, not even mentioning the produce in front of her at all. 

“She’s wonderful, just about to graduate. She’s off to university in the fall.” he answered, laying his hand over his heart. “I don’t know how I’ll go on with her gone.”

“Oh, you’ll be just fine.” she said, rubbing his back in a comforting manner. Bucky perked an eyebrow and looked away, trying to hide his smirk. Women always had their ways.

They kept up the small talk for a few minutes longer before the man finally moved away, sliding back behind the table. “What are you looking for today, eh? I have plenty perfect choices for you. Look, taste it.” he pulled out a pocket knife, and Bucky subtly moved to intercept if needed. He didn’t know this man, didn’t trust him. But the man simply picked up one of the pears and cut a chunk from it. He held it out to her, and she gratefully plucked it from the knife and popped it into her mouth. She gave an appreciative sound.

“Marvelous, as always. No one ever has fruit like yours.” she said, taking another slice from him with a dazzling smile. “What’s the price point this year?”

“For anyone else, ten lei each.” he said, making an exaggerated face. Mika played into it, giving him an innocent look and batting her eyelashes.

“But for me?” she asked, speaking a little lower than before. The man dramatically looked either way before leaning close to her - a little too close for Bucky’s taste. She obviously knew the man, and that was the only reason he wasn’t stepping in immediately. But he did shift his feet, just in case. 

“For you, my dear...it seems you’re in luck. For the next couple minutes, my fruit is half off!” he murmured, making Mika gasp appreciatively. 

“Now Paulo, that’s too good a price, even for me.” she said theatrically. Bucky had to stop himself from rolling his eyes; yes, in seventy years, women had not changed much. And apparently men had become even more stupid.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind a little trade…” Paulo said, and Bucky was once again on alert. What kind of bargain was he hoping to obtain? If he so much as  _ insinuated _ anything disrespectful, he was ready to throw the man across the market. “...I know Rosin would much appreciate one of your peach pies. They are her favorite.”

“Of course! I can bring it tomorrow.” she said, gently touching his wrist. Perhaps he’d judged Paolo too quickly. He almost felt bad about it. Almost. 

“No rush, no rush. Just whenever you have a spare moment.” he said, bagging up the fruit for her. Bucky moved to the other side of the aisle, pretending to glance over the handmade jewelry in glass cases. The proprietor had stepped away for a moment, giving him free reign to look without any additional social interaction. Mika finished up her conversation with Paolo, and put the large bags of fruit into her even larger bag. He waited until she said her goodbyes before stepping back next to her.

“Astounding performance.” he said, allowing a bit of sarcasm to lace his tone. She gave him an equally sarcastic laugh, playfully shoving his arm. 

“Hey, I just got like five times the fruit for half the price. I call that a win.” she said. “Not my fault I just played to my strengths instead of making up a wild story.” 

“There was no wild story involved. Just some mild insinuations.” he said lightly, as if that made it any better. Today, with the sun shining and his friend by his side, he felt more like himself than he had since the forties. So much so, that he decided to, dare he say, have a little fun. “Besides, I can play your game just as well.”

“Oh can you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Well then, hot shot, let’s see it.”

“Very well.” he said, bolstered by this newfound confidence. Today, he felt like a regular civilian. Today, he felt normal. Today, he could do this. He spotted a young woman further down the line, artfully arranging bunches of various lettuces in a display. He put his hands in his pockets, sidling up to the stand and giving her a winning smile. “Hello.” he said softly, gaining her attention. She gave him a bright, friendly smile.

“Hey there. What can I get for you?” she asked, her tone polite. He gave her his most charming smile, keeping his posture casual.

“These are beautiful. I didn’t realize there were so many kinds of greens. Which is the best?” he asked. This was going to take some patience. When was the last time he’d attempted to  _ flirt _ with someone?

“Well, it depends what you’re going for.” the woman replied. She pointed to the far left. “Arugula is a little bitter, so you have to mix it with something savory or sweet to counteract it. The Romaine is best for light salads and really goes with everything. For wraps, I recommend the butter leaf. It has a very nice texture.”

“Is that one your favorite? The butter leaf?” he asked. It felt odd to smile this much. She gave a shrug, glancing over the selection. 

“Depends on what you’re into.” she finally said, giving him an expectant look. Maybe he was doing better than he thought.

“And what are you into?” he questioned, putting a little more mischief in his grin. Flirting wasn’t near as hard as he thought it was going to be. The words weren’t coming as smoothly as they used to, he knew that for sure, but overall this was going much better than he anticipated when he’d made that impulsive bet. The woman laughed, but not in a flirtatious way. No, he could instantly tell that he had lost.

“You’re cute. And charming.” she said, still speaking through giggles. “But I’m afraid I’d be more ‘into’ in your friend over there.” 

Bucky’s jaw went slack as Mika erupted into laughter, clutching her stomach. The girl held her smirk, staring at him with a daring look in her eye. She was daring him to react in an unsavory manner, as she was probably used to outrage or contempt. He didn’t mind her preferences, though he knew that if this were before the War she definitely wouldn’t be so bold. Everything was more acceptable these days, more free. He found this comforting - after so many years as the Soldier, it was difficult for him to be concerned about modesty. Usually he only noted it because he felt other people did. He gave her a polite smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck before he realized he was doing it. “I’ll, uh, just take one of each, please.” he said, his tone returning to normal. Mika, still howling with laughter, came to stand next to him.

“I’ll take some as well.” she said, getting herself under control. The girl began to package their vegetables, perking an eyebrow as they noted to collect them separately.

“Separate?” she asked, making sure. She meant to address both of them, but was only looking at Mika.

“Yes.” Bucky answered, though she didn’t really seem to hear him. He was amused by this interaction; sure, he’d known a few women back in his time that were interested in women, but they never got to be this open, this authentic. It was kind of liberating, in a way. He gave the woman the lei he owed her, tucking his greens into his backpack and stepping away. He could hear the girls chatting still, but figured they may like a moment to themselves. He’d bartered his way through three more tables before Mika caught up to him.

“Whew, sorry. Got caught up.” she said, falling in stride next to him. He gave her a knowing smirk.

“Happens.” he said. He suddenly recalled the first time they’d gone to the cafe around the corner, and the waitress there. The phone number. That seemed like the next logical step in the conversation. “Did she give you her number?”

Mika gave him a mildly impressed look, followed by a smile. “No, she did not. But I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” she said, looking away from him for a moment. Her hands were fiddling with the strap of her bag. Why was she nervous? Was it because she was afraid of his reaction? She needn’t be, but he didn’t want to say as such out loud. He didn’t want to put words in her mouth, or make her feel like she needed to explain herself. Mika was a little more heartfelt than most people he knew, so he wasn’t sure if she was facilitating another friendship or something else. Either way, he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, or unaccepted. 

“Maybe next time.” he replied, giving her what he thought was a hopeful look. This seemed like an unbiased enough answer, and he hoped it would relieve whatever tension she’d put herself under. She gave him a shy smile, standing up a little taller as they continued their walk.

“Maybe.” she agreed, looking ahead to the booths in front of them. “What else do you need?”

“I believe I’ve got everything necessary.” he replied. His backpack was heavy and filled to the brim with fresh vegetables and spices. He found he was actually quite excited to get back to his apartment and cook with them. “You?” 

“Just a couple more stops.” she said, picking up her pace a bit. He didn’t mind if they kept the slower speed - he would not be going to the grocery store upon their return, and the market here was still relatively quiet. The open air allowed his senses to take in everything efficiently without being overwhelmed. None of the tents had walls, which meant he had good visibility through the rows. Overall, relatively easy to manage. He could handle staying here a little longer. Mika made a stop at the table with various grains and flours, loading up with a few pounds of each. At the next spot, she purchased fresh butter, eggs, and cheese. He had the distinct feeling that there would be a lot of baking over the next few days. 

“Now for the best part.” she said, smiling widely. Her speed had faltered a bit now that she was laden down with produce, but she still navigated the stalls with impressive agility. 

“And what’s that?” he asked. He was nervous, though he didn’t know why. He supposed the alarms would never stop going off in his head whenever there was an unknown happenstance. Even if he still felt the pull in his muscles to abort mission and retreat, it was at least more of a tug now instead of a forceful yank.

“You’ll see.” she sang, leading him around the corner to a booth. He hated when she said that. He couldn’t manage to get Mika to understand that he despised surprises. They rounded a turn to where an old woman sat on a stool, giving them a toothy grin as they stopped at her table. She had a large stone thing on her table, as well as a huge bucket of ice. Bucky was very confused, but Mika seemed to know exactly what was going on. The old woman stood and greeted her warmly - as most of the farmers had today - chattering away about her family and asking Mika about her love life. No orders were placed, but the woman began grabbing fruit from some secret area beneath the table and chopping it roughly. She pressed the flesh of the fruit over the stone, the juice flowing down into a plastic cup. She added a variety of juices until the cup was mostly full, then put a handful of ice before capping it and handing him a straw. Both women looked on expectantly as he punctured the lid with the straw and hesitated. He wanted to analyze the situation more, sniff out the possibility of poison. But now was not the time. Maybe, if Mika trusted this woman, he could too.

“Delicious.” he breathed after taking a sip. He wasn’t lying - the mixture of melon, orange, and peach was fresh and flavorful and just sweet enough to remind him of summers gone by. He took another sip as the woman mixed up a second cup, handing that one to Mika. She handed her a few bills, then took a long draught of her drink. With a satisfied smile, she bid the woman goodbye, and they turned toward the exit. 

“Overall, a successful morning.” she commented, limping along with her heavy bag. Bucky eyed her and her awkward gait with amusement, and he wondered exactly how much she’d purchased.

“So it would seem.” he said wryly, earning a weak glare from his companion. It was made all the more comical by the clumsy walk she was sporting. He couldn’t hide his grin at that point.

“None of that from you, sir.” she said, wagging a finger in his direction. Her chastising tone was cut by the shortness of breath from carrying her heavy pack. “This is practically a holiday in my book, it’s not my fault I got a little too excited.”

He gave a brief huff of a laugh, holding out his left hand. “Give it here.” he said, gesturing with his fingers. 

“No. I’m strong and capable, thank you.” she said, her words once again accented by her huffing and puffing. He raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look.

“You’re full of shit.” he said, waving his hand at her again. This made her dissolve into laughter, and she finally conceded and handed him the strap of her bag. He easily slung it over his shoulder, but he was surprised by its weight. It was even heavier than he’d estimated. She was giving him a bemused look, as if she were laughing at some joke now. He wanted in on it. “What?” he questioned.

“When you first moved in, I told Elena that my goal was to befriend you so you could carry heavy things up the stairs for me. And look, my plan has finally come to fruition.” she said, trying to keep her voice even. However, her cheeky grin gave her away. He pulled the strap from his shoulder, the metal arm easily holding the weighty bag out in front of him. She diverted her path, as if she were avoiding being touched by it.

“You can have it back, if you like.” he teased, and she shook her head dramatically, turning her shoulder away from him as he held it closer to her again.

“Oh, no no. I wouldn’t rob you of this opportunity to be a gentleman.” she replied, taking a sip from her drink. Once again, she was unable to hide her smirk. He gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Full of shit.” he reiterated, putting the strap over his shoulder again. She didn’t seem bothered by his jab, humming happily with her face in the sun and her drink in her hand. He carried her bag all the way to her front door, only handing it over then. She took it with a grateful smile. 

“Thank you, thank you.” she said, trying not to show how heavy she’d forgotten it was. She heaved it over her own shoulder, trying to keep her balance. “When’s movie night this week?”

Bucky thought for a moment, remembering his schedule but also doing his traditional hesitation before accepting Mika’s invitation. All this time, and he still wondered if she was being polite or genuine, even though in his heart he knew the answer. It was his mind that kept messing him up. “Tomorrow or Tuesday.” he said, giving her either option with his nights off. 

“Tomorrow it is. Please let me buy the pizza.” she added, giving him a stern look. He shook his head.

“I’ll bring it.” he replied, unlocking his door before she could answer. He could hear her protesting, but closed the door quickly behind him. He may be hit or miss on social situations and may still have issues with interpersonal communication, but he’d be damned if he let a lady pay for their shared supper. Mika informed him a couple months prior that this was an antiquated practice, and that even then it wasn’t a date, so it would be fine to switch back and forth. He adamantly disagreed. She was providing the movies, he would provide the sustenance. Easy as that.

He unloaded his fresh vegetables and organized them, admiring the colorful array now adorning his kitchen. With everything now in its place, he sat down with his list of recipes and began reading through them, trying to decide which one to start with that evening. Of all the surprise outings Mika had taken him on, this one was by far his favorite. 

He was so distracted by the success of the morning that he almost forgot the new agreement they’d reached at the gym. His blood chilled again as he realized that teaching Mika how to fight - really and truly fight - might bring parts of him to the forefront that he never wanted her to see. 

But what if it didn’t? He’d been afraid teaching her defense would crack open the wall he kept between himself and the past, but he’d managed it with minimal bumps in the road. Perhaps he can do this. He hadn’t been the Soldier for well over a year now. Perhaps he could have a little more confidence. All else failed, he reasoned, Mika would not disown him if he said he couldn’t teach her. 

He could worry about that later. For now, he was hungry.


	14. Caught A Long Wind

One of these days, Mika was going to have to convince Bucky to start their sessions a little later in the morning.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate this time with him - she was incredibly, abundantly grateful for it. But sometimes she wanted to sleep in a little on a Saturday morning. Maybe just once. This morning, she stumbled out of bed, starting off a few minutes later than she should have. She downed half of her coffee black, hoping the scalding temperature and bitterness would help wake her up. And while it did just that, it also left her mouth raw and burnt. She pulled on the first pair of leggings she found and whatever sports bra and tshirt were on top of the pile. Her shoes were not in their usual spot, of course, requiring a few laps of her apartment before she could pull them on. It was about four minutes past six when she finally floundered into the hallway, ponytail falling to the wayside and coffee cups barely capped.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m late.” she said, fumbling with keys and straps and coffee. Bucky smirked, taking both cups from her before she could spill them all over the place. She settled down, closing her eyes and taking a breath before looking back at him. “Sorry. Good morning.”

“Good morning.” he responded, handing her one of the cups. He took a sip of the remaining one before grimacing, handing it out to switch. “Guessed wrong.” 

“What? You were wrong about something?” she asked, feigning shock as they started down the stairs. Bucky gave a brief, unamused chuckle from behind her.

“It’s been known to happen.” he said lowly. He was using a specific tone that Mika figured meant he was alluding to something in his past that he hadn’t shared. She was always curious in these moments, but the intense desire to pry had faded over the past few months. Bucky shared things when he was ready, there was no need for her to pester.

“Not since I’ve known you. Now the illusion is broken. I have nothing to believe in now.” she said theatrically, holding a hand to her chest in disbelief. 

“Drama queen.” he murmured. She turned, touching the hand rail as she moved so she could balance while giving him a shocked look that quickly turned to pride. She’d taught him the phrase a couple weeks ago, and this was the first time he’d tried it.

“Look at you, using your new phrases correctly. I’ll make a modern man out of you yet.” she said, refocusing her attention forward as they continued their descent. The air outside was still slightly chilly thanks to the early hour, and Mika regretted not wearing a jacket over her tshirt. In the winter, she could depend on Bucky to have an extra layer she could steal, but now that spring was full on, he was down to just the one. She had no doubt that he would pull the shirt off his back and walk around topless if she requested it - which was precisely why she didn’t ask. She knew the cool air would feel much better when they were walking home from their work out. 

The gym was just as empty as usual, but instead of going to the group class room as they normally did, Bucky led her to another corner that she hadn’t ventured to before. Apparently a punching bag had been hanging here the whole time, and she had no idea. It seemed most of the other patrons didn’t either, as the bag seemed relatively untouched. 

“We’ll start with this today.” he said softly, sitting down on a nearby bench and pulling his journal from his backpack. He also pulled out two packets of cloth, which turned out to be very long strips.

“Oh my god. Are you gonna be my Mickey?” she asked excitedly. He paused for a moment, and she could see the wheels turning as he recognized her reference. 

“I think you’ll be better than Rocky Balboa.” he replied, unraveling the cloth strips and beckoning her to him. “Can I see your hand please?” he asked, pulling his glove from his prosthesis. He used his left arm so often and so easily now, she sometimes forgot it was made of metal. She’d wondered multiple times how he’d gotten so comfortable with it, but decided that question was best saved for another day. She held out a hand, and he carefully began wrapping her wrist and fingers. When they were safely padded, she tapped her knuckles together, feeling the soft rebound of the fabric. 

“Wow. We’re being legitimate here.” she said appreciatively, making him smirk. 

“Only way I know.” he answered, gesturing towards the bag as she laughed. His deadpan humor always got her. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“You want me to just...hit it?” she asked, suddenly a little nervous. She always wanted to impress Bucky, wanted to show him that she was tough enough and strong enough for his lessons. But it had been a long time since her sister taught her anything, and she knew that her skills would be subpar. 

“Preferably hard.” he said with a shrug, a slight grin on his face. He was sitting relatively casually on the bench, with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. But his eyes were sharp as always from under his baseball cap, watching her every move. She stuck her tongue out at him, trying to diffuse her nerves with humor. She lined up, giving the bag a few experimental taps before winding up and hitting it as hard as she could, trying to punch a hole through it as her sister instructed all those years ago. The force sent an odd vibration through her arm to her shoulder, but it didn’t hurt. It made her feel kind of powerful. 

“How was that?” she asked. Bucky’s eyebrows had risen slightly. 

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” he answered. “You used your arm a little too much. Think of it like throwing a ball, you want to use your whole body.”

“Makes sense.” she agreed, lining up and throwing another punch. Bucky complimented her improvement, then told her to try with her other hand. Her non-dominant hand was not nearly as strong or coordinated, and it took a few tries before she could get the movement correct. Once she had the basic forms, he had her run through various patterns, getting used to switching her feet or her hands. It didn’t sound particularly difficulty when he was explaining it to her, but after a short bit her arms were burning and her breaths were a little short. She tried to make her movements quick, reacting to his words the best she could. As per usual, she wanted to impress him, make him feel like teaching her would be worth his time. And as per usual, his instructions were succinct and effective, helping her improve even faster. He was an excellent teacher.

“I believe that was a good start.” he said after a while, standing up and reaching for her hand to untie the wraps. She pulled away from him, giving him a feigned admonished look.

“Wait, we’re not gonna spar?” she asked, bouncing on her toes and making exaggerated motions as if she were a boxer waiting for her fight. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“You’re not ready to take me.” he said shortly, making her roll her eyes and put her hands on her hips. Well of course she wasn’t ready to take him, that was the whole point of their lessons. But the absolute certainty with which he spoke set off the ambitious side of her.

“What, afraid I’m gonna surprise you?” she asked with a perked eyebrow. She tried time and again to appeal to Bucky’s competitive side, but he always kept himself poised and together. He wasn’t baited by her teasing, he was always levelheaded. It was kind of nice, if she was honest, considering how impulsive and ready to contest she was. She needed at least one sensible friend. 

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” he said. He tried to keep his neutral face, but the corner of his mouth was twitching. The longer she stared at him, the harder it was for him to keep the mischievous grin from spreading across his face.

“What if we make a little wager?” she offered, crossing her arms over her chest. He lifted one eyebrow, sitting up a little straighter.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, his interest piqued. Ah, there it was. So it wasn’t that Bucky had no competitive side - he just needed the stakes to be a little higher. 

“If you can keep me from landing any body hits, then I’ll buy all your groceries at the farmer’s market today.” she said, giving him a challenging look. She had no doubt that she could not take Bucky in a sparring match in any way, shape, or form, but she was confident that she could get him at least once. “But if I can make one hit, then you have to buy mine.”

“Sounds like you just want an excuse to hit me. Or to get me to pay for things.” he replied, not bothering to hide his smirk this time. She gave him an unamused look.

“Well ideally, it’d be both. That’s kind of the point of the wager.” she said lightly, making him smile and shake his head.

“Smartass.” he muttered, and she made her most innocent, endearing face she could muster. She could tell his resolve was starting to wane. He stared at her for a few more moments before sighing. “Fine. Don’t hurt yourself.” he finally relented, though his posture was straighter now, his eyes a little keener. It was the closest thing to a display of nerves that she could get out of him. 

“I won’t, I promise. I am a strong and ferocious tiger.” she said, picking up her bag. They went into their usual room, dropping their stuff in the corner. Bucky rolled up the sleeves of his tshirt, shaking out his hands a little. 

“You’re not a tiger. A kitten, maybe.” he replied. He didn’t seem anxious, perhaps, but he seemed hesitant. It reminded her of the first time they’d trained together, how he was so afraid to touch her or share her space. She gave him a mock offended look, which seemed to settle him a little bit.

“I am not a kitten.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He lifted one corner of his mouth, and she knew he was really proud of whatever comeback he’d formulated.

“You’re right. You’re a little bird.” he said. It wasn’t much of a crack, but it was enough to spike her blood pressure.

“I am not a little bird! That’s even worse than a kitten!” she exclaimed, her voice a shriek. Bucky chuckled at her reaction, cringing at the volume her voice reached.

“It’s a compliment.” he amended, trying to smooth it over. Too late.

“How is that a compliment? Birds are weird and fragile and weak!” she retorted, her voice raising an octave. He actually looked very concerned that he had offended her, holding his hands out in an effort to get her to lower her voice.

“No, no. Birds are pretty, and agile, and can cause a lot of damage if they really want to.” he said in a soothing tone. He was emoting much more than usual, which led her to believe that he was actually serious in what he was saying. She scoffed, changing her position to more of a fight-ready one.

“Whatever. If I’m a bird, then I’m a scary one, like a falcon. Or a hawk. Or a goose.” she said, giving her most intimidating look. He let out another low chuckle, shifting his stance ever so slightly, anticipating her movements. 

“Geese are not scary.” he said, which made her raise her eyebrows.

“Clearly you’ve never met one then.” she said seriously, shaking her head. He shrugged.

“You’ve got five minutes, little bird.” he said, giving her a smirk that didn’t quite go as high as usual. But he wasn’t saying no, and she knew that if he was too uncomfortable, he would respectfully decline. It was actually one of her favorite qualities of his. 

“I can do a lot in five minutes.” she asked, giving him a challenging look. They’d finally gotten to the point in their friendship that they could make innuendos, though she often made more than he did. He’d been surprised the first time, but now he just rolled his eyes at her bawdy jokes. 

“Not enough.” he replied, making her eyebrows raise. She always felt a weird sense of pride when he felt comfortable enough to make a joke with her. 

“Okay, tough guy. Let’s do this.” she said. She brought her fancy new watch up to her lips, telling it to set a timer for five minutes. When the request processed, she immediately sprang into action. She wasn’t trying to really and truly hit him, but she was trying to at least touch his torso. He easily pushed her hand away with his right, giving her an amused and pointed look. 

“You can do better than that.” he said. Was he taunting her? He was taunting her! She narrowed her eyes, setting her feet like he’d taught her. He was still grinning at her like a Cheshire cat, and it was possibly the most transparent she’d ever seen him. She was acutely aware of the time counting down; if she didn’t want her grocery bill to double, she needed to get going. She tried some of the combinations he’d taught her earlier, but he easily blocked them all. Of course he did, he was the one who taught them to her. So she tried to switch it up a little, doing different combos that they hadn’t gone over. It was a little clumsy, but she felt so good, so  _ alive _ . Bucky’s amusement only seemed to grow as she continued to try and land a hit, any hit. He didn’t even move his left hand from his pocket, he was blocking all her shots with just the right. 

The timer went off entirely too soon, just as she was about to land a great right hook. He was momentarily distracted by the sound coming from her phone, and she thought she would actually make it. At the last second, his attention returned to her. His left hand shot up, catching her swing easily before it could make contact. The grip was much softer than before, when she’d lost her balance and he’d caught her. She could feel the metal fingers of the prosthetic pulse, the plates of the forearm shifting slightly. Bucky lost his amused look then, and while his expression wasn’t blank, she couldn’t quite figure out what emotion was displayed on his face. He let go of her hand, stepping back and letting out a long breath. He was slowly opening and closing the metal hand, as if testing his control of it.

“Sorry.” he whispered. He was no longer looking at her, but instead down at the ground. He pressed his lips together and swallowed, and she would have given everything she owned to know what he was thinking in that moment. But she wouldn’t ask about it, wouldn’t pressure him.

“Nothing to apologize for, you won our bet fair and square.” she said, smiling brightly. He finally looked back at her, his neutral expression back in place. She didn’t like when he made that face; it made her feel like he was trying to hide from her. Which, he probably was. Bucky had come leaps and bounds from where he was when they first met, but he was still careful, still somewhat guarded. She couldn’t even imagine the levels of anxiety that he was hiding. One of these days, she was going to give him a hug, so help her. Because he needed it. At least, she felt like he needed it.

“Oh, right.” he said, as if he’d forgotten about their little wager for a moment. He furrowed his brows before holding his right hand out. “Is your hand okay?”

“Yep, look. My  _ Rocky _ wraps did their job.” she said, showing him her covered knuckles. Her fingers were a little red, but that was from the bag work they did earlier. He let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing a full inch lower. He undid the wraps slowly, expertly rolling them up. She noticed he really took his time, focusing way more on the strips than he probably needed to. She kept silent as he worked, figuring he was trying to center himself or something. She wanted to ask why he was always so afraid of hurting her, but that (like all the other questions she wanted to as) seemed like a sure way to make him uncomfortable.

“Looks like you owe me some produce then.” he finally said, finishing up the wraps and putting them in his backpack. Mika let out a groan, throwing her head back dramatically.

“I have nothing to blame but my own hubris.” she said, shaking her head. She slipped off her socks and shoes, saying, “let’s do some yoga, while I consider this mistake that I have made.”

Bucky paused for a long time before reaching down and untying his boots. Their yoga session was a little longer than usual, which he was grateful for. He found he very much enjoyed yoga; it certainly wasn’t a cure-all, but it was nice to do something quiet that took his mind off of everything that liked to intrude. Plus the stretching felt good. He couldn’t remember the last time he just...stretched. Like a normal person. 

The farmer’s market was another new tradition that Bucky enjoyed. Mika wasn’t kidding when she said the produce was better; with his enhanced senses, the difference was more than noticeable. Plus, the earlier they got there, the quieter it was - even quieter than the grocery store at that hour. It was pleasant to be in the open air, surrounded by the smell of earth and vegetables. There was something soothing about it. It was even better when Mika was paying for his groceries.

Of course, he didn’t let her pay for all of them. He let her mess with the kid selling potatoes, as he wanted more time to pass before he had to haggle with him again. He didn’t really need to worry - the kid didn’t display an ounce of recognition when she walked up to him. She handed over the vegetables with a dramatic sigh, her face long as he situated them in his backpack. He took his time at the next stand, making her suffer. When it came time to pay, he pushed her wallet away, trading his own bills for the squash.

“Hey now, none of that. You won the bet, and now I must reap what I have sown.” she said, trying to push past him to the seller. He dutifully and easily stayed in her way, preventing her from making contact with the man. She let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a groan of frustration, trying to force her way past him again. He gave her a impish grin, not giving her any room to move around him. “I hate your stupid science strength!” she exclaimed finally, stomping over to the next booth. He chuckled, sharing an amused look with the seller in front of him before putting away his vegetables and continuing down the row.

“Mad?” he asked, catching up to where she was admiring the same handmade jewelry he’d spotted last week. Once again, the person in charge of it had stepped away. Bucky wondered if they ever worried about their merchandise disappearing. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before turning and continuing down the row.

“No, you’re saving me money. Even if I was the one who lost the bet.” she said. And while her words were positive, her voice still sounded a little bit salty. “I just don’t care for being pitied.”

Bucky made a disagreeing noise. That’s what she thought this was? Ridiculous. “Pity is not something I do.” he said shortly. He didn’t even remember what pitying someone felt like.

“Swear?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. Once again, she was daring him to disagree with her.

“Swear.” he answered, giving her a look that he hoped conveyed how serious he was without being overly somber. She eyed him for a moment before her facade finally broke.

“You are too chivalrous for your own good, you realize that right?” she said, going to the booth with all the different kinds of flours. Bucky let out a dry laugh.

“Guess I’m just old fashioned.” he replied, laughing again at his own inside joke. Memories of his past conflicted so heavily with the fashion of today; he had the feeling he would never let go of his old traditions. 

“You’re a mess is what you are. We need to get you a girlfriend.” she said, which made him scoff in answer. She gave him an playful grin, sidling a little closer to him as the man weighed and bagged the flours she pointed out. “Oh, right, or is it boyfriend? I’m still not certain where we landed on that.”

Bucky shook his head, unable to stop the smile from breaking across his face. Her candor never ceased to amuse him. How could he explain that there was probably no way he could ever be in a relationship like that again? He couldn’t put his burdens on someone like that, couldn’t ever be vulnerable like that. He couldn’t imagine letting go of all his secrets in such a way. “Maybe in another century, you can find me a girlfriend.” he said by way of answer, trying to keep the response short and sweet. 

“I won’t be alive in a century!” she exclaimed. He thought it odd that she didn’t question  _ his _ living for another hundred years. She accepted her packages from the salesman, neatly arranging them in the bottom of her bag as they made their way further down the row.

“Don’t limit yourself. I fully believe you could outlive me out of spite.” Bucky retorted, stopping to get onions from an old man wearing suspenders and a cowboy hat. Mika rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Asshole.” she said lowly, leaving him to go talk to the girl who sold lettuce. He walked through the whole line of booths, picking up his various necessities before meeting up with her again at the fresh juice booth. She already had his cup ready and waiting for him when he wandered up, hers already halfway gone. The mix today was strawberry and watermelon, and it was just as delicious and refreshing as last week. The sun was partially covered by clouds as they walked back towards the apartment, but he didn’t mind - it was still a pleasant morning. 

“Shit, did you buy bricks this time?” he asked as he offered to carry Mika’s bag again. She stuck her tongue out at him, bouncing on her toes as she walked as if she now felt weightless. Which, considering her bag probably weighed about as much as her, was understandable.

“I may have gotten a little overzealous.” she admitted, taking a sip of her drink. She made a noise as she remembered something, awkwardly trying to swallow the juice without choking on her excitement. “Elena and I decided a half hour ago that everyone’s coming over tonight for wine and bread and cheese. You’ll come too, right?” 

He was uneasy at the thought of interacting with multiple people in such a confined space, but luckily he had a trusty excuse at the ready. “Can’t. Work.”   
  
“Ugh. Your work schedule is really getting in the way of our fun.” she said, throwing her hands up in the air in as if questioning why she bothered. “Well, if you still see the light under my door when you get home, pop in. Say hello. Eat, since clearly I’ve gotten too much.”

“Will do.” he agreed as they scanned into the building. They were silent as they climbed the stairs, Bucky focusing on balancing with the heavy bags over his shoulders. Mika looked a little sour that she had to take it back from him, her arms definitely struggling to pull the strap onto her shoulder. 

“Thank you! Okay, so either see you tonight or see you…” she left the statement hanging, and he realized she was asking about their movie night. He thought back, trying to remember his schedule for next week. 

“Tuesday.” he said, the information finally clicking into place. Sometimes his brain felt like it was on overdrive, and sometimes - like that moment - it felt slow as molasses. But it was getting better, it was always getting better.

“Tuesday. Have a good day!” she sang, opening her apartment and lumbering inside with her haul. He laughed and shook his head, letting himself into his own apartment. He carefully organized his groceries, pulling out the necessary ingredients to cook his lunch. Work started a little earlier than usual tonight, so he had to review his memories a bit faster than usual before fixing his supper for later. It was still light outside as he walked to the warehouse district that evening, and the sidewalk was busy with people out to enjoy the spring sunshine. Bucky kept his head down and his pace steady as he walked, fading into the background of the cityscape. 

It was a slow night that night, making the time pass by slower. The men he worked with were chattier than usual, taking their time to do their job as well as taking time to make fun of one another. He wished they could just get the unloading done and go home, but knew he had to stay the whole night in order to get a full shift’s pay. The rest of the guys didn’t seem as impatient or restless, but then again they never were. 

“I see you’ve got another fancy meal there, Jones.” Hugo teased as Bucky heated up chicken, veggies, and rice pilaf. He shrugged - it really wasn’t that fancy, he was able to make it less than half an hour. 

“Your girl make that for you?” Ronaldo asked from where he was unwrapping a sandwich. Even as far as sandwiches went, Bucky had to admit that it looked unappetizing. 

“Don’t have a girl.” he muttered for probably the hundredth time. He kept his eyes on the turning glassware in the microwave. 

“So what? Did you make it yourself? Got an apron and everything?” Ion pestered, giving a grin to the other guys. 

“Don’t need an apron if you manage the heat correctly.” he deadpanned, sitting down at the table with them with his food. It wasn’t hard to shut the younger guy down when he tried to take shots at him, but it was still satisfying. He always expected Bucky to retaliate - it was hard to win the fight if he was agreeable. 

“Or if you have a girl make it for you.” Ion countered. He was learning, or at least trying to. 

“Gender doesn’t matter. Everyone gets hungry.” he said, tucking in to his meal. That effectively shut him up, the older men humming in agreement. They let him be for the rest of their half-hour break, though only after they tried to convince him to pack their meals as well. 

Their tasks were done long before the clock struck one, so they were due diligent employees and sat around until the end of the shift. Bucky sat adjacent to the group, working on the puzzle from the daily newspaper (it was called  _ sudoku _ , Mika showed it to him a few weeks prior; there was something soothing about putting the numbers in their little boxes). The rest of the guys were playing poker, which he vaguely remembered playing at some point in his life. They invited him to join, but he declined, saying he preferred his puzzle. Really it was because he hadn’t quite remembered all the rules yet, and he was not about to ask these jokers to teach him how to play. He knew how that would go. 

The walk home was not as quiet as usual, given the earlier hour. With the spring in full swing and summer around the corner, all the pubs between his work and the apartments were packed, and the foot traffic between them elevated to the highest level he’d seen so far. He was glad when he turned the corner to his building to find the residential street empty. There were a few people half the block down, but they were walking away from him into the night. He scanned his way in and climbed the stairs to the top floor, the hallway silent and still. He was surprised to see the light on underneath Mika’s door - he figured she would be asleep by now. It was her ceiling lights too, which implied she was not only awake, but up and moving around. Usually if it was this late, it was the low light of her lamp, and he could hear her television playing. The television wasn’t on; instead, he could hear muffled music. He recalled their conversation earlier, about her having guests that evening. She said to stop by if her light was still on...and it was. He stood in the hallway for an inappropriately long time, trying to decide whether or not to knock. Protocol dictated that he went home, showered, and reviewed his memories before going to sleep. But his friend had told him to stop by if he was home in time.

With a decisive nod, he walked up to her door and gently rapped his knuckles against it. He heard Mika’s footsteps as she scuttled to the door, the click of the lock opening sounding before she opened the door. Her confused face turned to happy surprise as she saw him, giving him a brilliant smile.

“Bucky! Hello! Come on in!” she said, gesturing to her empty apartment with her half-full glass of wine. He was confused, but stepped in anyways. Didn’t she say her friends were coming over? A bubbly pop song played, and she danced along to it as she moved into the kitchen. There were still small piles of bread and cheese on the island, as well as many open bottles of wine. He became acutely aware that he was still sweaty and dirty from work; perhaps he should have stopped to shower. Or just not have come in at all. She continued, interrupting his thoughts. “You just missed everyone, but there is still plenty of food that I can’t eat on my own.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s late, I can go.” he said, stepping back toward the door. She shook her head emphatically, finishing a bite of something before answering him. 

“Absolutely not. Please, join me.” she said, grandly presenting the spread. She went to her cabinet and grabbed another wine glass before picking up one of the bottles. “You have to try this one, so good. Wait, do you drink? I’ve never seen you drink. I mean it’s just some wine, nothing crazy. Sorry, I get chatty when I’m tipsy.” 

Bucky gave a soft laugh at her outspokenness, nodding his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a drink just for the sake of it, instead of trying to survive the Siberian winter. “Wine would be nice.” he said. She smiled, carefully pouring what was left in the bottle. He heard her toilet flush from the other side of the apartment and turned quickly, taking a step towards the door.

“Oh, sorry, Elena is still here. I should have warned you. I meant to warn you. I’m sorry.” she said quickly. He took a deep breath, lowering his pulse back to its resting rate. Elena he could handle. 

“That’s okay.” he said, masking his initial unease. He accepted the glass of wine from her, just as Elena came skipping out from the bedroom, feet bare and skirt fluttering. 

“Oh, who do we have here?” she sang, eyeing Bucky. Perhaps he was wrong about being able to handle her. He took a sip from the glass, the motion feeling natural. The wine was smooth and light, with an almost woody aftertaste. He knew back in the day he used to drink a lot of whiskey, but he found he rather liked the wine.

“Elena, you remember Bucky.” Mika reintroduced them. She wiggled her fingers, sliding onto the barstool next to him. 

“Why yes I do.” she said suggestively. Bucky didn’t understand her tone, and decided that maybe it was just the wine talking.

“Nice to see you again.” he said, keeping his own tone neutral. She gave him a grin that made him uncomfortable. 

“Likewise.” she purred, ignoring the empty wine glass next to her and picking up one of the mostly-empty bottles. 

“Down, girl.” Mika said lowly, giving her a pointed look. Elena opened her mouth to respond, but Mika cut her off before she could say anything. She turned back to Bucky, picking up a chunk of bread and placing another chunk of cheese on top of it. She presented it to him. “Here, try this. Rosemary whole wheat and fresh mozzarella.”

His hesitation was brief before he reached for the morsel, popping it in his mouth. The bread was soft, the herbs giving it a wonderful flavor. It worked well with the smooth, mild cheese. “Really good.” he said, giving her a smile. She smiled back at him over her wine glass.

“Not as good as this one.” Elena said, creating her own combination and holding it out to him. “Cheddar and...what was this one?”

“Sourdough.” Mika clarified, taking another drink from her glass. Bucky carefully took the slices from her, making sure their fingers didn’t touch. This bite was a little sharper, but he didn’t dislike it. He followed it with a sip of wine, which helped mellow out the strong flavors.

“Also good.” he said, giving Elena a mildly impressed look. She seemed happy enough with that reaction, lifting her large wine bottle to her lips. “So this was how you spent the evening?”

“There was a little more wine at first. And also a delightful rye bread, but Maria put that shit away, it was pretty impressive.” Elena answered, even though he was looking at her friend. She handed him another bread and cheese combination without saying what it was. He took the risk and ate it anyways, finding it as delicious as the other two. He suddenly understood why they had this little get together. 

“Did you make all these?” he asked Mika, gesturing to the bits of bread that were left. He knew she made her own amazing multigrain bread, but this was an impressive assortment. He thought for sure they were made by some overpaid professional, as most food was nowadays. She shrugged, humbly looking down into her wine.

“Yea, it’s not a big thing.” she said with a shrug, picking up another bit that was left on the cutting board in front of her.

“It’s very impressive.” Bucky replied, making his own pairing and eating it in one bite. Somehow, the flavors still seemed to work. She smiled, and he didn’t know if it was the compliment or the wine that was making her blush like that. Surely she wasn’t embarrassed? She shouldn’t be. Her bread making skills were incredible. He looked up to see Elena’s gaze switching between him and Mika as if she were watching a tennis match, even though they weren’t speaking. A puckish smile slowly spread across her lips, and she suddenly downed the rest of the wine that was in the bottle.

“Well lads, I’m off to bed. You two have fun finishing this.” she said, waving her hand wildly in the direction of the bread and cheese that was left. Bucky thought Mika would go to bed as well, and thus prepared himself to leave. But she surprised him by filling her glass again, hopping up to sit on the small area of island counter that wasn’t covered by food. 

“Don’t take the middle of the bed again.” she called after her as she sauntered across the apartment.

“No promises!” she called back, waving over her shoulder and shutting the door quietly behind her. Bucky looked back at Mika, picking up another couple slices of bread and cheese.

“So this was the whole night?” he asked again, eating the next bite. He reached for his wine glass to find that it was quickly emptying, which was not ideal. He knew that thanks to whatever HYDRA did to him he couldn’t get drunk, but he still liked the taste of alcohol. Except for vodka. He hated vodka. 

“Yep. What can I say, we’re an easily amused bunch.” she replied, eating a slice of cheese on its own. There was very little food left, but he didn’t mind. He’d gotten plenty of nutrients from his meal a few hours ago, and at this point was just indulging because it tasted good. 

“Have fun?” he asked. He knew this was a socially proper response, but he was also genuinely curious in the answer. It sounded odd, to have no concrete plans besides snacks and wine.

“It was! Nicolae brought over this new card game. It was tremendously inappropriate but also tremendously hilarious. And then he and Jonas got into a fight over one of the answers which effectively ended the game but was very amusing to watch. And then Maria taught me a new dance to my new favorite song that I can’t stop listening to but then Alexei broke one of my wine glasses which was a real dick move and…” she stopped herself, pressing her lips together and looking down. “Sorry, rambling.”

“No, sounds like it was a fun night.” he replied, and he meant it. He gave her an encouraging smile, trying to abate any chagrin she might be feeling. 

“It really was, I wish you could’ve come. It sucks that you have to work nights and weekends all the time, I think you’d really like my friends. And they’d like you too. They’re a little high strung but I think your laid back demeanor would really help them chill out a little bit...I’m oversharing again. It’s the damn wine.” she chattered, putting the still half-full glass down. 

“Hopefully someday the schedules will work out.” he said, and for once the idea of engaging with new people didn’t turn his blood to ice, though it did chill him a little bit still.

“Hopefully.” Mika agreed, lifting one corner of her mouth in a half-smile. She hopped off the counter, as if suddenly struck by an idea. She started gathering the empty wine bottles, trying the minimize the loud clacking of the glass hitting. “Sorry, I just realized how much of a mess there is. If I don’t clean right now, then I’ll leave it for tomorrow and it’ll just be even worse then.”

“I’ll help.” he said, getting up off the barstool and gathering the now-empty serving boards. He found he was a little disappointed there wasn’t more, even though he wasn’t hungry by any means. She waved at him to put them down, but he continued despite her protests.

“No, no, don’t worry about it. You just got off work, you should go home and sleep.” she said, carefully depositing the empty wine bottles in the receptacle. 

“Not tired.” he responded, going to her sink and carefully removing his gloves before rinsing the boards off. After a few moments she stood next to him, moving the faucet so that she could clean the wine glasses on the opposite side. The mess really wasn’t that big, and they were able to clean it in a relatively short time. Bucky was glad he stayed to help; now that they were finished, Mika looked very sleepy.

“Thank you. For helping. And for stopping by! I’m so glad you did.” she said, giving him a tired smile and putting an affectionate hand on his shoulder. Yes, it was definitely time for her to go to bed. 

“Thank you for having me.” he responded. He slipped his gloves into his back pocket; there was no need to put them back on just to go across the hall. “See you Tuesday?” he asked, opening her door.

“Tuesday.” she replied, their conversation very similar to the one they had earlier. “Goodnight, Bucky.” 

“Goodnight, little bird.” he teased, ducking out of her apartment before she could reply. But he did not move fast enough to escape her annoyed glare, which she made sure he saw as he closed the door. He smiled to himself at the joke, going across the way to his own apartment. He went through his nightly routine, though it didn’t feel as robotic as usual. He made sure to note the bread and cheese he’d tried before sliding into his sleeping bag, trying his best to get some sleep.


	15. Get By With A Little Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: graphic mentions of bodily injury and blood

Bucky liked to think that he was prepared for anything. Well, anything adverse at least. He was ready in the case of the government finding him, any of his past “employers” finding him, or anyone looking for revenge finding him. What he was not prepared for? Making friends. 

It was one thing to make friends with Mika; after all, they lived next door to each other, and she was friendly to a fault. It had taken him these past nine months to realize that no, she wasn’t just being nice to him, they were actually really friends. But the men from work? He had every intention to come in every night, do his job, and go back home. He didn’t plan to learn their names, learn about their lives. But what could it hurt, he figured? Information was a valuable commodity in the dark underbelly of the world. He would just get to know them, for the sake of reconnaissance. That’s for sure what it was. 

What he hadn’t counted on was reclaiming the part of himself that wanted to look out for people, protect people. He’d assumed pulling Steve from the river that day was an anomaly. Steve was someone from the past, someone that the Man held onto so dearly that he was able to briefly overcome the Soldier. Steve was supposed to be a one time save. A fluke. But then he’d stumbled on Mika that night, and saved her as well. He was, it seemed, someone who was concerned about others’ well being. 

And tonight, that trait was going to bite him in the ass. And the rest of his body.

It started off as a normal Wednesday night. He walked to work as the sun set, keeping his head low and his eyes down. He gave a brief greeting to his colleagues, changed to his heavier protective wear, and went to work. They shared their night meal around midnight, with the usual, casual conversation. The punched back in, and went back to work. Then, at roughly fourteen minutes past two in the morning, everything went to shit. 

The smell of gas hit just before the explosion did. The whole group of them stood up straight like animals sensing a predator, and Rolando opened his mouth to yell for everyone to run just as the  _ boom _ rattled through the building. Bucky hoped the fire would be contained to the corner where it started, but apparently most of the cargo that night was flammable, the fire spreading quickly. One of the containers started whistling as its contents expanded with the heat, sounding like a large, dangerous tea kettle. He could feel the pressure within it building. Without thinking, Bucky stepped between the container and his colleagues. The door of the container shot off with a loud  _ bang _ , the metal plates and handles slamming into his back. He wasn’t able to stay upright with the hit, but he was able to slow its momentum enough to keep it from sailing into the other men. He caught the floor with his metal arm, controlling the descent so that he didn’t break his face on the concrete.

He could hear the immediate cry of alarm from his coworkers, but didn’t pay them any mind. There was rebar between the muscles of his leg, and hot metal searing into his flesh. His left ankle was broken, and the ligaments of his knee on that same side were ruptured. He could still wiggle his toes, which was a good sign; at least he hadn’t sustained a spinal cord injury. He did, however, get the wind knocked out of him, which was possibly the most annoying injury at that very moment. He wriggled his arms so that his hands were underneath his shoulders, pushing until there was enough space between him and the floor to lock out his elbows. He could hold that position for a while, if he needed. But he’d really rather not. 

He couldn’t stop the yell of pain from ripping from his throat as the container door suddenly lifted further. It was kind of his coworkers, really, to raise it off him. It was not their fault that they didn’t know about the handle currently puncturing his lung. He let out a strangled gasp as blood started filling in where the metal previously was, the familiar taste of copper arising. He was surprised, honestly, that they’d stayed to help him, and pulled himself to his feet before they could endanger themselves further.

“Jones, you alright?” Hugo asked, helping Bucky further.

“Fine. Thanks.” he said, nodding his head towards the discarded container door. Smoke was quickly filling the large warehouse, the heat slowly climbing towards stifling. Ronaldo moved toward him, pulling his arm over his shoulders. Another surprise. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” he said, helping Bucky limp towards the exit. Another yell echoed through the storehouse from somewhere behind them, but no one else seemed to hear it over the roar of the fire. Bucky stopped, taking a cursory glance at the people around him, counting them. Ronaldo looked at him, confused as to why their progress was halted in such a dire moment. “Jones, we gotta go.”

“Ion’s still back there.” he replied, pulling his arm from the other man’s shoulders. 

“It’s too late, we gotta get out.” Hugo yelled. The fire was filling almost every crevice of the warehouse now. More containers were screaming and popping around them as the contents inside reached their pressure point. 

“I’ll go get him.” Bucky shouted back, his strangled voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the flames and the blood in his chest cavity.

“Jones! You’ll both die! Let’s go!” Ronaldo angrily bellowed, reaching for him again. Bucky waved him off, turning to the back of the warehouse, where the fire had started. He reached one more time, but Bucky pushed him with his metal arm, using the strength to get his point across.

“I got him. You guys go.” he said. Without another word, he started limping towards the back. He could hear Ronaldo still yelling after him, but Hugo must have convinced him to make their escape. Bucky was very aware that this was likely a suicidal mission. But he had been on many of those before, and always seemed to come out just fine. 

He paused for a moment, removing the glove on his left hand so that he could tie his boot up tighter, trying to stabilize his ankle. It hurt like a bitch, but he knew it would heal. He always healed. With a little more support now, he continued his limp towards the back, listening for the sounds of the young man screeching for help. Ion’s cries were desperate now, his words punctuated by coughing and sobbing. Bucky knew that sound in his voice; he was slowly accepting his death.

Well, Bucky had been around plenty of people who died. And he didn’t plan to be around any more of them for a long time. 

He finally found Ion, trapped under a canister door not unlike he was earlier. He hoped he didn’t have the puncture wounds that were trying (and failing) to knit themselves back together currently. Given the fact that he could scream this loud, he believed that his lungs and heart were intact. His lower half, however, remained to be seen.

“Jones?” Ion asked as he walked up to him. He looked at him with awe and confusion. Bucky knew that look too; he wasn’t sure if he was real, or if he was hallucinating.

“Can you feel your legs?” he responded with another question. The answer would determine his plan of action.

“Yes, unfortunately.” he said, smiling through tears that were now more for hope than despair. Even on the verge of death, the guy was still a wisecrack.

“This will likely hurt.” he said, putting the palm of his left hand under the metal trapping Ion. He knew it was likely burning, but the prosthesis didn’t register it. He raised the heavy sheet, using the strength in his arm in a way that it hadn’t been used in a long time. He couldn’t hear the clicking and shifting of the plates, but he knew they were working. Ion grimaced as the weight was lifted, but otherwise kept a brave face. With enough room to move, he crawled partially out, accepting Bucky’s right hand as he offered it to him. He tried to stand up, but immediately crumpled when trying to put weight through his leg. Bucky had a split second to decide what to do as he fell: drop him and risk more injury, or drop the container door and kill him. In the end, he decided on neither; as a result, he felt a sickening pop as his shoulder was pulled from its socket, and was unable to stop the yell of pain now blooming across his upper quarter. 

“Oh my god, your arm!” Ion panicked as Bucky’s arm hung there uselessly. It was a full dislocation; that was going to be a bitch to reduce. 

“Crawl out.” he said through gritted teeth. If they were to make it out of this fire alive, they needed to go. Now. Ion looked like he wanted to apologize, but did as Bucky said, and crawled until he was completely out from under the metal. He immediately dropped the door, limping to where the younger man was sitting. Ion had gone pale, and couldn’t look away from the nauseating angle that his right lower leg was sustaining.

“I think it’s broken.” he gasped out, unable to catch his breath. He was starting to go into a panic, which was not what they needed right now. They needed to get him out. He would need surgery if he were to live, let alone keep his leg. 

“Yep. Stand on the other one.” he instructed, reaching out with his left hand again. His movements weren’t as fluid as they had been of late, but Bucky figured now was not the time to worry about that. Ion pulled his left leg up, probably with every intention to stand. However, he promptly passed out. “Fuck.” Bucky said to no one. He could barely breathe himself, and pain was covering every inch of his body. But he needed to keep going. He needed to try. He couldn’t just give up and leave him here.

For the first time in a long time, he was grateful for the metal arm. That was the one body part he didn’t have to worry about when dragging the man toward the exit. He went as fast as he could with his limitations, knowing that every second spent was a second closer to even more disaster. He didn’t remember the warehouse being quite this long, the trip seeming to take ages. Every step hurt his ankle, and made his shoulder scream as it swung like a pendulum. But he was going to get the guy out, even if it killed him. 

The first breath of fresh air felt cool and healing and sharp all at the same time. It made him cough, blood spilling onto the pavement. There were fire trucks and ambulances already there, trying to contain the situation. Boscoe was the first to spot him, getting up off the tail gate of an ambulance and moving towards them. He was yelling for someone, but Bucky couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. The blood loss was starting to take its toll. 

Ion started moving again, the smoke-free oxygen finally registering. Bucky looked down at him, trying to gauge his status. He was certainly still alive, but his face was still pale and his breathing was labored. 

“Jones, you okay?” Boscoe asked. He was the first one to reach them, but the other guys were moving towards them as well. Hugo dropped down to the ground, helping Ion sit up so that Bucky could finally let go. Behind the emergency vehicles, he spotted a news van setting up their equipment. He couldn’t afford for his face to get out, either in print or on television. He needed to leave the site immediately.

“I’m fine. See to Ion.” he said, trying to push past them. Ronaldo, ever in charge, grabbed him by the arm. Since his shoulder was currently dislocated, the pain was startling enough to stop him. Momentarily.

“You need to get checked out. You have blood all over you.” he said. There was genuine concern in his eyes, which Bucky didn’t understand. They were just coworkers. Behind him, the news crew turned on their lights, a pretty woman in a blue blazer picking up a microphone. Time to go.

“I’m okay. I’ll see you in a few days.” he replied, walking away as fast as his broken ankle allowed him to. Ronaldo tried to keep up with him, but Ion chose that moment to lean over and vomit, providing just enough distraction for Bucky to duck into the crowd. His boot was not providing proper support for the ankle fracture and one of his lungs was definitely losing function, but he could make it home. At least, he hoped he could make it home.

The walk back to the apartment seemed much longer than usual. Granted, maybe it was because his injuries were starting to take a toll on him. He focused on the pavement just in front of him, willing himself to continue putting one foot in front of the other. This wasn’t the worst bout of injuries he’d ever had, but it was the worst he’d had in a long while. If he could just make it back to his apartment, then he could collapse on the floor and heal. Or die. Whichever came first.

By the time he reached the building, his body felt nothing but pain, and his vision was blurry at best. He eyed the spiral tower of stairs in front of him, and for the first time he regretted choosing an apartment on the top floor. Step by agonizing step he made his way up the stairs, pausing at the landings to try and catch his breath. The lung that wasn’t full of blood felt burned from the smoke inhalation, making the already trying trip even more difficult. He definitely hit more than a few walls on the way up, unable to keep his balance.  _ Just make it to the top _ , he thought. _ I just have to make it to the top. _

He made sure to have one last spectacular loss of balance right at the top of the stairs, his own little victory dance. The fall was loud, he knew. But it’s not like he could do anything about it. It was late enough at night that no one would probably be awake. If he could just make it inside, he would be home free. He rested on his metal elbow on the top landing, his knees a couple steps below him. He could feel the charred wheezing in his chest, and the sharp throbs in his leg. The one good thing was that his arm had gone numb, likely due to impingement of his brachial plexus. No matter, at least he couldn’t feel it. He tried to get up again, but once more his ankle gave out on him, leading to a second loud crash against the floor. Alright, another few minutes of rest. Then he would proceed into his apartment. 

“Bucky?” 

At the sound of a voice, Bucky immediately froze. He didn’t think Mika would be up. In fact, he hadn’t been thinking about Mika at all. 

“Bucky, oh my god, what happened? Are you okay? How did you get all the way up here?” she asked, running over to him. She knelt next to him, holding her hands out as if to touch him. She hesitated, not sure where to put her hands. He was dangerously close to losing consciousness; he needed to move.

“I’m fine.” he gasped out, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears. Or perhaps that was because his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. 

“You are very obviously not fine.” she said, trying to keep her voice low and not doing well. She pulled her phone from her shorts. “We have to call an ambulance, you have to go to the hospital.”

He reached out, trying to push her phone away. “No, no hospital.” he said. Hospitals kept records, and he couldn’t have any records. He needed to remain a ghost. He misjudged the distance for her phone, as well as the pressure through his prosthetic hand. Her phone crumpled in his hand like a soda can, the  _ crack _ dull due to the pressure in his ears. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” he gasped out. 

“No it’s fine, it’s fine.” she assured him, her voice wavering from trying to silence her alarm. “But seriously Bucky, you’re covered in blood. You need to go to the emergency room.”

“Just need rest.” he said, though his vision was getting dark. His entire body felt heavy. At this point he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to get into his apartment. He tried to pull his keys from his opposite pocket, his back burning as he tried to maintain his posture. He watched with abject horror as the keys slipped from his grasp, tumbling over the edge of the stairs. They clattered somewhere onto a floor below. “Fuck.” he whispered, trying to figure out how he was going to make it back downstairs without blacking out. 

“I’ll get them, I’ll get them.” she assured him, finally putting her hands on his shoulders. “Please, at least come inside. We’ll figure it out from there.”

He didn’t want to impose. He knew he was bleeding from multiple places, and had some serious injuries. She wasn’t a medical professional of any sort. “Don’t worry about me.” he said, though he didn’t think she’d heed him. He coughed again, blood splattering onto his sleeve. 

“You’re coughing up blood, Bucky. Come on, inside.” she said, reaching for his right arm. He tried to bite back the low sound of pain at her hands on his shoulder, but he was unable to. She immediately let go, which led to him collapsing against the stairs again. He felt like his brain shook in his skull - which, likely, it did. Mika was apologizing profusely, but he couldn’t quite understand her words. Unconsciousness was eminent. 

“Mika,” he whispered, getting her attention. Her face was fading in and out. He lost his train of thought, distracted by the concern in her eyes.

He didn’t finish his statement, instead finally succumbing to the darkness.

Mika, for her part, thought she was doing very well not to completely dissolve into a sobbing, frenzied mess. She’d fallen asleep on her couch sometime before the late night infomercials started, only to be awoken by...she didn’t know what. Then a loud thump had sounded from right outside her door, which instantly put her on high alert. She didn’t expect to see anything when she looked out the peephole, but she was met with the sight of the bloody, broken mess that was her neighbor. She’s not sure what she expected to do to help him, but she was going to find some way. 

With her phone out of commission and Bucky currently out cold, her options were certainly limited. One thing she knew, though, was that she couldn’t just leave him out here for anyone to find. She couldn’t have been the only one to be woken up by the ruckus in the hallway. She tied her hair up, pushing up the sleeves of her oversized flannel and grabbing hold of his arm. Something was definitely wrong with the way it moved, which was likely why he’d shied away from her earlier. She didn’t want to risk hurting him further by pulling on it. She hesitated for a long moment before grabbing hold of his prosthetic arm. It was hard to get him up the last few stairs, but once he was on the flat laminate landing, it was smooth sailing. She knew he’d rather be in his apartment, but considering his keys were however many floors below them, he would have to do with hers for now. 

Speaking of which, she needed to retrieve the keys. Once he was situated on her floor with a couch pillow under his head, she scampered back out the door, her heart hammering and her eyes scanning the cement as she ran down the stairs. Of course the keys had made it all the way to the ground floor, but at least they were still sitting there by the time she made it down. Her adrenaline fueled her as she jogged back up to the top floor, her speed picking up as she suddenly realized there was a very real chance that Bucky was dying on her living room floor. 

She tossed his keys on her kitchen island, falling to her knees next to him. He was still laying in the same position she’d left him, his chest rising and falling in short, raspy breaths. Now that he was under the bright lights of her kitchen, she could see there was much more blood on him then she originally thought. She checked his pulse on his neck, just to be double sure he was alive. His face was pale, so very pale. She eyed her phone, its dark, cracked screen refracting the light from the nearby lamp. Calling an ambulance was out of the question, and she definitely was not equipped to handle this. 

Without warning, Bucky’s eyes snapped open, eliciting a short scream from her before she clamped her hands over her mouth. She went to ask if he was okay (even if he very clearly wasn’t), but was interrupted by him sputtering and coughing, blood dripping from his mouth. Out of instinct, she pushed him onto his left side; she didn’t know if that was the right move, but it’s what she did any time her friends from university drank too much and were vomiting at the end of the night. She kept him on his side by holding his back with both hands, looking away and closing her eyes so that she didn’t see the waterfall of blood pouring from his mouth, or the red puddle that was forming underneath him. She felt it in the fabric of his shirt, red painting her palms and dribbling down the backs of her hands. Blood in itself didn’t make her queasy, but this amount of blood did. 

She honestly thought Bucky was going to pass out again after his coughing spell, but he somehow maintained consciousness. He pushed up onto his elbow, each breath shaky and gurgling. She kept her hands on his back, despite the fact that she probably could not catch him if he decided to faint again. The entire back of his shirt was soaked and dark, and her floor was turning increasingly red. 

“Sorry.” he whispered, though his voice was very strained. Sorry? That’s what he had to say at a time like this? Mika would have laughed, if the situation wasn’t so incredibly terrifying.

“Bucky. You need a hospital. You’re seriously injured.” she said sternly, trying to use a voice her mother would be proud of. He shook his head, the movement small and obviously painful.

“I’ll be okay. I just need to lay down for a while.” he replied. He tried to push himself up, but his right arm didn’t move or support him. He would have fallen over, if it weren’t for Mika pushing him back to a stable position.

“No. You need medical attention. You’re bleeding from like, a hundred different places. Your arm doesn’t work. And I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure your foot isn’t supposed to be at that angle. I know you’re stubborn and all, but I really, really don’t want you to die in my apartment. I mean, I don’t want you to die, period, but especially not in my place.” she was nervous and rambling again. He tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. It seems a couple of ribs were broken too - he’d failed to notice that earlier.

“I’m not going to die.” he said shortly, and he was so confident about it that she almost believed it. 

“Yea, well, I can’t take that chance.” she said as he tried to stabilize himself. He reached for his shoe, untying it with a series of jerks. He tried to pull it off, but let out a hiss of pain from the odd angle. Mika had to look away for a moment, her stomach rolling at the odd way his bones shifted. He settled back down, his brows furrowed in concentration. But she couldn’t tell what problem he was trying to solve. 

“Could you please help me take off my shoe?” he asked quietly. Mika had never really known him to ask for help, but that didn’t change the fact that her apartment was far from a sterile environment.

“Absolutely not. You need a real doctor, I do not have the skills to help you here.” she said. She didn’t understand why he didn’t want real, professional help. He just shook his head again.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve lived through much worse. I just need to get back to my apartment.” he replied, which made her roll her eyes.

“Now is not the time to brag about your badassery. You’re literally dying, Bucky. Please. Please let me take you to the hospital.” she said, her voice wavering as tears started prickling behind her eyes. Now that he was awake and talking to her, it left just enough room in the situation for her to start breaking down. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so scared. In fact, maybe this was the most scared she’d ever been. She tried to push back her tears; now was not the time to cry.

Bucky took that moment to turn and look at her, his face very serious. He no longer looked like he was about to drop, but she had the sneaking suspicion he still felt like it. Her breath caught as he said, “I won’t die on you. I promise.” 

She stared at him for a long minute, trying to read his expression. He was actually holding himself up now, which was a good sign. But his right arm was still hanging there as if it were made of lead, and his face was still white as a sheet. She argued with herself, trying to decide the best course of action. He was obviously very injured, and she was obviously not a doctor. But he seemed to have confidence that they could take care of everything, and that he would be alright. He’d already displayed how stubborn he was, and somehow she knew she was not going to be able to convince him otherwise. It seemed her choices were to let him die alone in his apartment, or to die here with a friend. 

“If you break this promise, I’ll bring you back to life just I can kill you myself. Do you understand me?” she said, once again using her mothering tone. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Yes, ma’am.” he said quietly, looking away from her. Now that they had that settled, his bravado was slipping. She could see him blinking, trying to focus his eyes. He kept swaying side to side, as if he couldn’t quite find his balance. If she wanted to fix him up while he was still conscious, she needed to act fast. 

“What do you need me to do?” she asked, trying to steele her resolve even though her heart was pounding about a thousand beats per minute. 

“My shoe. I need to reset the break so it heals properly.” he said. His voice was still quiet, and she could still hear him wheezing with every breath. Her stomach turned again at his phrasing, but she swallowed down the nausea, moving and carefully loosening the laces of his boot. He let out a groan of pain and his posture wavered for a moment as she slowly slid it off his foot, but he held back any other expressions. Something white was poking out from his sock, and Mika immediately had to turn away from it as the realization hit her.

“Oh my god that’s bone. Bucky, that’s your bone. Oh my god. Oh my god.” she stood up for a moment, foregoing her nurse duties so she could stand over the sink and try not to throw up. She could no longer differentiate the physiological feelings going on in her torso, everything was going haywire.

“Don’t look.” Bucky said, just loud enough that she could hear him. Of course, Mika then made the mistake of looking, right as he reached down with his metal arm and snapped his ankle back into proper alignment with a loud crack. She couldn’t stop herself from vomiting at that point, leaning against the slim bit of counter in front of the sink. Once she was somewhat settled, she ran the water, trying to rinse away her shame at her weakness. He was the one dying on the floor, she could at least keep her shit together so that maybe he survived. She rinsed her mouth and stood up, deciding that now she was a new woman, a tough woman. A woman who didn’t vomit at the sight and sound of someone snapping their bones back into place. 

“Okay, what’s next?” she asked, though her stomach was still uneasy at the situation. Bucky had the audacity to perk an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on her episode at the sink. He waited for a second to let her compose herself before speaking again.

“I need to put my shoulder back into place.” he said, eyeing his arm. The fingers were grey and motionless. Mika swallowed heavily, but nodded. “I’ll likely lose consciousness again.” he warned.

“Then should we take care of the wounds on your back first?” she asked. Her voice sounded much more sure than she felt. In reality, she was just trying to channel her favorite character from her favorite medical drama while really still freaking out on the inside. “We can’t dress them if you’re passed out.” 

He was still for a long time, and she could tell he wanted to say no, though she didn’t understand why. Blood was dripping from the hem of his shirt, it had to be coming from somewhere. They needed to cover it, put pressure on it so that he wouldn’t lose any more blood. “You’re right.” he finally said, after what felt like an hour of waiting. 

“Okay, let me get my first aid kit. See if you can work on those buttons.” she said, gesturing towards the front of his work shirt. He nodded, bringing his left hand up to his collar. She made sure he was stable without leaning against the support of his prosthetic arm before jogging across her apartment, digging into the cabinet under her sink to find the big first aid box her mom had bought her when she first moved to Bucharest. She had yet to open it, but now seemed as good a time as any. She pulled it out and carried it back into the living room, where Bucky still sat fully dressed.

“Buttons kept slipping.” he said, waving his fingers. The metal of his prosthetic glinted in the light, and Mika had a sudden surge of compassion towards him. Even if she wasn’t a lot of help, she still wasn’t sure how he would have handled this all on his own.

“I’ve got it.” she said, putting down the red kit and kneeling in front of him. It felt odd to be this close to him. Not bad, just different. She was usually very aware of his personal bubble, but he was letting her in tonight. She was glad for it; she didn’t want to think about what could happen if he didn’t. She tried to be clinical in her approach, unbuttoning his shirt as quickly as she could despite the shaking of her hands. She moved to his collar to pull it away, but he grasped her wrist as gently as he could with his hand, staying her movements.

“There’s a lot of scars.” he warned. For the first time, she heard something in his voice that sounded like sadness. It suddenly occurred to her how vulnerable he must feel, and how incredibly unnatural it seemed to be for someone to be helping him. Once again, her heart broke for him. 

“That’s okay. Come on, we need to put pressure. You’re still bleeding.” she said, her voice low and gentle. He let go of her wrist, the metal plates clicking and sliding as he put his arm down. She pulled his collar away, sliding the sleeve down so that he could remove his left arm from the shirt. He was right, there were definitely a lot of scars. They were raised and white, tracing around the outline of his prosthetic as if they’d used a hot glue gun to stick in on. Thin ropes of tissue spread like a spiderwebs under the skin from the metal, stretching and straining as he pulled his arm from the sleeve. Her nausea was gone for a moment, replaced by the deep desire to cry and hold him. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d gone through to end up with an arm like this, and suddenly all those “been through worse” comments made sense. She felt bad for making light of it. 

His shirt stuck to his back thanks to the blood, and it took a few moments of gentle tugging to loose it from the intact skin. She nearly threw up again at the sight of the hole in his back and the bruising around his ribs, but she held it together this time. She left the shirt hanging off his right arm, unzipping the first aid kit and rummaging through it until she found a big box of gauze. The little square would be good for patching him up, but she needed to clean him up first. She grabbed the first towel she found in her bathroom, wetting half of it under the sink and wringing the excess water out before going back to him. For as much pain as he had to be in, he held remarkably still as she carefully wiped away the red stains on his skin until all that was left was the gaping wound. Next came antiseptic spray, though he laughed at her use of it. He was still bleeding slightly, so she packed a little extra gauze around it before securing a big sheet of it with silk tape. She couldn’t cover the burns on his upper back and neck, but she at least has some ointment to soothe them.

“Do you think you can get to the couch?” she asked once her wound care was done. He let out a slow breath, and maybe it was her imagination, but it didn’t sound quite as gurgly or wheezy as before. She got up, grabbing every blanket within reach and spreading it over her sofa. It had to be much more comfortable than the floor. Plus, if he passed out, then he wouldn’t fall back into all the blood he’d spilled earlier.

“I think so.” he said, slowly trying to move onto his feet. Mika moved to his left arm, and he was too focused on his pain and his actions to hide his surprise. She helped pull him to his feet, ducking under the metal arm to support him. Normally he would move away if she was this close, but he was too light headed from standing up. She awkwardly moved her hand around his opposite side, trying to find a spot that wasn’t on his wounds or his bruised ribs. She settled for his belt, grabbing onto the leather to give herself some leverage. He limped the few feet to the couch, his chest heaving by the time he sat down. Whatever color he’d regained in his skin was lost again.

“There, now if you pass out you’ll at least be comfortable.” she tried to lighten the situation. He gave her a look that said he wanted to acknowledge her humor, but physically could not. Besides the obvious pain, he looked incredibly exhausted. She didn’t know how he was still awake. “Now, let’s get this shoulder situated.”

“Do you need a trash can nearby?” he asked, though his tease was cut by the strained tone of his voice. She wanted to smack his leg, but refrained. 

“You’re in no condition to be a smartass.” she said, giving him a pointed look. “Now, tell me what to do about your shoulder.” 

“Hold my arm by the wrist, then pull as hard as you can and slowly move up. With any luck, it’ll roll back into place.” he explained, giving vague gestures with his left arm. Once again, she was momentarily distracted by the way the skin around his prosthetic moved. She shook her head, refocusing. She went to grab his arm, but stopped.

“Maybe you should lay down first? In case you pass out?” she asked. It was a fair question, but she also was just trying to stall the inevitable. He nodded, holding his ribs as he laid onto the pillows. Only then did she pick up his wrist, which felt unnatural. “Bucky, your arm is like, really cold. Should we be worried about that?”

“It’ll be fine. Go ahead and pull it.” he said, clenching his teeth in preparation. She took a deep breath, leaning back until his arm was straight. She tried to start moving it, but he let out a yelp of pain. She almost let go of his arm, remembering at the last minute that that would be the worst idea she’d had all night. “You need to pull harder. Harder than you think you do.” he said, his breaths sharp and shaky as the pain rattled through him. 

“Right, sorry.” she said, clamping her mouth shut before she could start rambling. She straightened his arm again, leaning until she could feel the joint stretching. Bucky’s previously pale face was now turning red as he held his breath, trying to stay still as she moved, trying to keep the pressure even. She must have been moving too slow for him, as he reached over with his left arm to grab his right, pulling and moving faster until the joint relocated with an audible  _ clunk _ . Her stomach did spasm at the sound, but she pushed the feeling down. It was easy, since she was distracted by Bucky’s eyes rolling back into his head and his whole body falling limp. She immediately checked his pulse again; it was faint, but it was there. She let out a sigh of relief, sitting down on her coffee table and holding her head in her hands as she continued to try and regulate her breathing.

Once the panic was gone, she looked up to survey the damage. It was nearing six in the morning, and half her laminate was covered in Bucky’s blood. She needed to clean it while it was fresh, otherwise it would be much more difficult to take up. She checked on her friend once again, but he seemed to be blissfully unconscious, letting his body heal. With his face relaxed in sleep, he suddenly seemed much younger, which made her realize that she had no idea how old he actually was. She filed it away under questions for later, her exhaustion numbing her as she started gathering towels and scrubbing the floor. She paused periodically to check on Bucky, especially when he murmured in his sleep or if his muscles started twitching. But he never fully woke up again. 

With a pile of red towels in her basket and fatigue soaked to her very bones, she finally sat down on her big comfy chair. It was one hell of a night, she figured. One last check on Bucky showed that everything was unchanged; she supposed that meant he was stable. She walked into her bedroom, considering going to sleep. Instead she grabbed her blankets from her bed, dragging them back into the living room. The bigger one she laid over her friend, whose skin was still pale and clammy. The smaller one she pulled over her lap as she curled onto the arm chair, positioning herself so she could keep an eye on Bucky. She didn’t want to fall asleep, just in case he needed her. She grabbed her book from the end table, but the more she tried to concentrate on the words the more they jumbled together. Finally, when the dark night started to fade into the grey morning, she allowed herself to fall asleep.

She just hoped Bucky would still be alive when she woke up.


	16. Let The Chips Fall

Bucky felt like he was stuck in a dream. Well, not necessarily a dream. But not necessarily a nightmare either, at least not his normal one. The world was hazy, the fog periodically interrupted by the scarlet veil of pain or the cool breeze of Mika’s voice. He hadn’t been injured like this in a long time, and he’d forgotten how long recovery took. But at least he knew he would recover. Probably. If he could find his way through this smog.

When he finally woke up, he had no idea where he was. What he did know was that he was in  _ pain _ . Pain the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in a long time. But he found he couldn’t feel mad about it. The pain reminded him that he was alive, and that he wasn’t the Soldier anymore. 

Contrary to the pain, he was currently surrounded by softness. He had a sudden fleeting thought that he was dead and in heaven, but he dismissed it quickly. First of all, he wasn’t going to make it into heaven. Second, even if he somehow did manage to make his way in, he assumed he wouldn’t have this pain. He finally garnered the courage to move his head, then immediately regretted it. The afternoon light cut into his brain like a knife, piercing him with yet another pain. That’s was fine, he reasoned. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever felt. He realized the softness around him was blankets - he didn’t think he’d ever been surrounded by so many blankets. He didn’t think anyone  _ owned _ this many blankets. He wanted nothing more than to sink into them and go back to sleep, but was distracted by the sound of someone shifting nearby. 

This time he did turn, and was surprised to see Mika there, still fast asleep. She had somehow curled up tight enough to fit her whole body into her chair, though her covers had fallen to the floor. Her hands were still slightly pink from his blood, and her knees were a blatant red. She must not have seen the stains there. He needed to leave; he had far overstayed his welcome. He felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest as he realized how much he owed her. He would be buying pizza and coffee and pastries for a decade. 

He tried to sit up, biting back a groan as he did. He immediately felt lightheaded with the change in position, and sat there for a minute or two to allow what little blood he had left to make it back up to his head. He could feel the trauma in his lung, and was still having difficulty breathing. He attempted to move his shoulder, but found that the tendons of his rotator cuff were still healing and his active motion was minimal. He put his feet on the floor, testing out his ankle. The bone was roughly forty-two percent healed, which was going to make his limp back home a little more difficult than he originally anticipated. But as long as Mika was a really heavy sleeper, he’d be able to make it.

“The fuck do you think you’re going?” Mika mumbled, slowly unfurling from her position. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, trying to wake up quicker. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles, the tangles gathered into a very messy pile on the top of her head. 

“Thank you for your help last night. I don’t want to intrude any longer.” he replied. He became acutely aware of the fact that he was still shirtless. He wasn’t shy about his body - he’d forgone his own modesty long ago - but he knew the scars would be even more prominent in the daylight. 

“You’re not intruding. How are you feeling?” she asked, leaning her elbows on her thighs. She was still unaware of the red stains on her skin, but he saw them. They were dark and angry against the sun kissed tone of her skin.

“Much better. I can go home, I know you have things to do.” he replied. His current plan was to return to his mattress and sleeping bag and promptly pass out again. Assuming his ankle didn’t send him to the floor somewhere between the two apartments. 

“If you won’t let me take you to a hospital, I’m sure as hell not going to let you go hide in your apartment where I can’t keep an eye on you. Here, I have some hydrocodone if you want it, for the pain. It expired a couple months ago but it should be fine.” she said, holding out an orange bottle of pills. He shook his head.

“I’m okay.” he said. He didn’t want to explain that the medication would metabolize too quickly, and he would not feel the effects of it. Her eyes went wide as she had a realization.

“Oh my god, you must be dying of thirst. I never gave you any water. Shit, I’m the worst nurse ever.” she said, suddenly more awake as she got up and went to her kitchen. He tried to get up while her back was turned, but failed miserably. 

“I’ll be fine.” he said, even though his mouth was dry and his throat parched. He didn’t want to bother her any longer. The worst nurse ever? She was the best nurse he’d had since the army. She gave him a rather impressive withering look from the sink, effectively silencing him as she walked over with a full glass. 

“Drink.” she said, handing it to him. Bucky took it gratefully, carefully holding it in his left hand and taking a sip. It hit him exactly how deep his thirst was, and he downed the glass in its entirety. She took it back to the sink and refilled it, and this time he only drank half of it before setting it down on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” he said again. He didn’t know what else to say. It had been such a long time since someone had extended such kindness to him that it felt foreign. He couldn’t get over the feeling that he was being intrusive. She shouldn’t have to deal with him like this. 

“Of course. Let me check your bandage, then I’ll see to some breakfast. Or...late lunch.” she said after checking her watch. She looked tired, very tired. Then again, one probably had some level of exhaustion if their neighbor ended up half dead on their doorstep at four o’clock in the morning.

“I’m okay, really.” he replied. He knew the burns on the back of his neck were mostly healed, and the puncture wound in his back was working its way back together. The rate of healing would likely lead to questions, questions that he wasn’t sure he could answer. She gave him another glare, turning and digging through her red first aid kit to find more gauze.

“It’s okay to ask for help sometimes.” is all she said, sitting next to him on the couch and gently touching his shoulder as she looked at his back. The normal floral scent that surrounded her was punctuated by the sharp smells of antiseptic and cleaning supplies. These harsh odors didn’t suit her, and he didn’t like them being around her. 

“You’ve already helped enough. More than enough.” he whispered. Really, she was being too kind to him. He didn’t deserve this. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling somewhere between his chest and his stomach that made him want to retreat immediately. He spotted her towels piled in the basket, the fibers dyed red with his blood. “I’ll buy you new towels.”

“Stop it. I’m a grown woman, Bucky, I know how to get blood out of clothing.” she replied, carefully peeling the tape away. Her answer surprised him, and it took him more than a moment to catch her meaning. The gauze she removed was almost completely soaked through, so she doubled up on the fresh coverings before applying them. Her hands were cold, colder than they were last night, but her touch was just as gentle as before. He felt her fingers gently check the burns on his neck, hesitant as she made her assessment. He knew she noticed how healed they were. She always seemed to notice anything he didn’t want her to. With his new bandage in place, she went back into the kitchen and washed her hands. He considered getting up and just making a break for the door, but knew it would be a futile attempt. He had to give her some credit - Mika could be quite stubborn when she wanted. 

She brought him toast and butter, as well as some slices of deli meat, citing that he probably needed some protein. All she had for herself was a cup of coffee. He considered mentioning the protein bars he had in the bottom of his backpack, but remembered that his backpack likely burned with the rest of the building. Luckily he’d left his journal at home. He stacked the meat onto the toast and made a sandwich, figuring it would be easier than trying to eat the individual parts. She made sure he was comfortable before ducking into her room, cutting the shower on. He thought it odd that she left the door to her bedroom open, as well as the door to her bathroom - sure, he couldn’t see anything, but did she not worry about privacy? It then occurred to him that she might have left them open in case of emergency; it’s what he would have done. 

She came out a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a blouse and pinning her still wet hair into a bun. The floral scent was stronger than usual, and it was no longer diluted with the medical smells. She ran around the kitchen, refilling his glass of water and grabbing some fruit to put near him on the coffee table. The coffee machine ran again, filling a travel cup. She pulled up her laptop, logging in and opening an application. She sat that next to the fruit. “I have to run in to the office right quick, but I’ll be back in an hour, two at most. If you need anything, message Nicolae. He’ll be able to relay it to me.”

“I can just go home. Don’t worry about me.” he murmured, trying to stand up and immediately sinking back down as his ankle screamed at him. It likely wouldn’t be healed enough to hold him, but he’d find a way to make it. She had things to do, and he didn’t need to bother her anymore. 

“Bucky,  _ no _ .” she said sharply, crossing her arms and putting all her weight on one hip. The strength in her tone stopped him from attempting to get up again. She was mad at him. He’d seen her angry before, but never directed at him. It didn’t sit well. “You are still very clearly injured. You will eat your food and you will drink your water and you will go back to sleep until I get back.”

“I’m sorry.” he said. He didn’t think this was the proper response, but it was the first one to come to mind. He felt bad for taking her time, for waking her up in the middle of the night. He didn’t want to be a burden. 

“What are you sorry for?” she asked. She was still giving him a very serious look, though the anger had faded from her eyes. She was instead looking at him with what he thought was concern. The question hung in the air between them for a long moment as he considered his answer. 

“For being a bother, I guess.” he said. She’d completely thrown him for a loop with her question, and he had no idea what the proper answer was. He decided to be completely honest, and see what happened. Her mouth actually fell open for a moment at his response, and his heard her heart beat rise with her emotions. Her skin tinged pink ever so slightly as her blood pressure rose.

“For ‘being a bother’? That’s why you think I’m upset? I’m not upset because you’re being a bother, I’m upset because you…” she cut herself off, turning her face skyward for a moment. She was blinking rapidly, her fingers delicately covering her mouth. She was trying not to cry. Bucky felt like something in his gut splintered in half. He didn’t mean to trouble her like this. He cursed his past self for not being strong enough to make it into his own apartment, for putting Mika through this. When she spoke again, her voice wavered, and her eyes were still glassy. “You scared me last night, Bucky. You scared me really badly.”

“I’m sorry.” he said again. He could no longer define the emotions rolling around his chest, he only knew that he did not feel good. This was not right. This was not how he was supposed to feel with his friend - and clearly, this was not how she was supposed to feel either. A heavy stone settled into his stomach as he realized he may have messed up beyond repair. She gave a humorless laugh, crossing her arms tightly around her middle. 

“You don’t have to apologize. I just...I thought you were going to die. I thought you were going to die right here on my kitchen floor, and that was terrifying. But it doesn’t seem to concern you at all.” she said. The concerned look was still on her face, and he felt like she was asking him a question, even though she wasn’t.

“I promised I wouldn’t.” he whispered, and her face immediately told him that he’d said the wrong thing.

“Yea, because you knew about your weird super healing. But  _ I  _ didn’t know about that! All I knew was that you were bleeding out. I can’t complete the puzzle if I don’t have all the pieces!” she took a breath, trying to calm herself down. She closed her eyes for a moment as she collected herself. He felt another piece of himself chip and crack. She came and sat next to him on the couch, resting a hand on his knee. She usually maintained relative space between them, but she seemed to be ignoring it for now. He sat very still. “I know you have stuff that you keep to yourself. I get that. But do you want to know why I got mad? Cause to me, you don’t seem to care what happens to you. But I do. I care about what happens to you. So please,  _ please _ , lay back down and wait until I get back.”

Bucky was floored. For the first time in a long time, he had absolutely no response. He knew that there was a baseline level of  _ care _ to be expected with friendship. But to hear her spell it out so candidly still made his heart thump in a weird way. The last person who cared if he died was Steve, and that was in 1942. And yet, as he sat there with Mika with her gentle touch and her sad eyes, he felt a little bit guilty. Not for bothering her, but for assuming that none of this would affect her. She took his silence as discomfort, slowly moving her hand away from his knee. She didn’t scoot away though, she stayed close to him. He was having trouble breathing, though he didn’t know if it was because of the internal bleeding or the emotional conversation. 

“I didn’t realize that.” he said softly, cursing himself. He should be better at social interactions than this. She gave him a sad smile.

“I know. Now you do.” she said. She gave him one last pat on the knee before standing up, walking across her apartment to grab her purse and keys. She didn’t seem to be angry anymore, which was good. He didn’t like when she was angry. “So eat, and go back to sleep, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.” he said. He was exhausted to his core, but he didn’t think he could sleep. It was too new an experience, being in her apartment like this. She was really just going to leave him here, in her home, all by himself. Her trust never ceased to amaze him. She gave him a knowing smile, and for the first time in a while he wondered if she could read his mind. She turned on the television, scrolling through the list until she found the thing she wanted. The picture quality wasn’t as sharp as most of the movies they watched, and he was surprised when to find it in black and white. The opening seemed familiar, the girl in her checkered dress running across the field.

“Is this…?” he left the question hanging. He couldn’t believe she remembered his comment from all those months ago.

“Rest up, Tin Man, I’ll be back in a little bit.” she said with a smile, placing the remote back on the coffee table and going to grab her next cup of coffee from the machine. He gave her a tired grin as she slipped out the front door, closing it behind her. He sat there on her couch as the movie played, trying to decide his next plan of action. Everything in him screamed to leave, to go to his apartment and pack and leave. He’d gotten close, gotten way too close. 

But he  _ wanted _ to be close. He wanted to have friends, to be closer to normal. The lingering pain only reiterated that he was no longer the Soldier, he was his own Man. He let out a decisive breath, his healing ribs popping with the action. For the first time, he seriously considered telling her about his past, what he’d been through. She had a point - she’d always shared her cards, whereas he’d kept his tucked close to his chest. That was no way to maintain a friendship. He couldn’t show his entire hand yet - no, he probably would never be able to do that. But he could start. He’d find a way to start.

Mika paused outside her door, taking a deep breath and collecting herself once more before starting down the stairs. She was tired, both body and soul, but Bucky was okay. At least, she thought he was okay. His face was still as pale as her walls, but his breathing seemed to be clearer, and he wasn’t coughing up anymore blood. The wound in his back was still deep, but the bruises around his ribs were already yellow and green, and the burns on the back of his neck were scabbed over and surrounded by new, pink flesh. She wasn’t a doctor, but she knew that much healing wasn’t supposed to happen overnight. She hadn’t meant to snap about it, she’d meant to file it under the list of things she wasn’t supposed to ask about. But his cavalier attitude about his near-death experience had ignited an anger within her that she hadn’t expected. The night before had been exhausting, and difficult, and a little bit traumatizing. Seeing her good friend nearly die in a pool of his own blood was not something Mika thought she’d ever have to deal with, and she was never able to fully accept the possibility that he was going to die. He didn’t seem to think the possibility of death was something to panic about. She vehemently disagreed.

The afternoon sun was warm on her face as she walked down the street to the garage that housed her car. It was well enough past the lunch hour that traffic to her office building was clear, and she hoped she could get in and out fast enough to avoid the rush hour back home. The only spots left in the building parking garage were at the top, and she cursed the oncoming summer heat as she tried to keep herself from sweating during the trip down to the building’s main entrance. She greeted the usual security guards at their posts, allowing them to scan her body with the wand and rifle through her purse before she continued on to the elevators. 

She didn’t bother going to her desk, knowing that she wasn’t going to be clocking in or doing any work today. She already called in sick around ten o’clock that morning, after the third time Bucky’s sleep talking had woken her. She was here for something else. She passed by her own office, keeping her head down so as to not invite conversation with any coworkers. The office she was looking for was in the back corner. Nicolae looked bored, staring at his computer screen with his head resting on his hand. He immediately perked up as he spotted Mika.

“I thought you were on your deathbed.” he said, giving her a Cheshire grin.

“Oh I am. But I needed a favor.” she said, giving him her most innocent look. He immediately dropped his grin for a suspicious glare.

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone low and cautious. She fished through her bag, finding the chipped and cracked chunk of metal that used to be her phone. She held it up, showing the damage to him. He let out an appreciative whistle.

“Damn girl, what did you do to that poor thing? Run over it?” he asked, pushing away from his desk and walking up to her. He took the phone in his hands and turned it over carefully, admiring the damage. 

“Long story.” she said, taking the brick back from him and tossing it into the trash. “Do you think you can help me out?”

“Of course I can, come on. I was wondering why you weren’t responding to my hilarious SnapChats last night.” he replied, leading her back to the elevators. They went down to the lower levels, where there were no windows and only a few functioning lights. Nicolae walked confidently through the hallways while she followed, trying to keep up with his long strides.

“I always hate coming down here.” she murmured. Even though she knew in her head it was just a normal storage area, she couldn’t deny the creepy feeling she got from it.

“Well maybe you should stop demolishing your phones.” he said with a laugh, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking one of the doors. He went to the back, pulling open a few containers before finding the one he wanted. He grabbed a new iPhone box, handing it to her. “Here, this was just thrown out last week, so you’ll still have almost two years on it. If you can get it to last that long.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” she asked, if only for future reference. He paused, looking at the yellow sticker that was placed on it and furrowing his brows as he translated the code.

“The music app doesn’t work.” he said, which made her recoil her hand as if the box were a snake.

“You expect me to live without music?” she asked, astonished at the thought. He laughed, shaking his head.

“No, no, of course not. It’s the Apple Music app that doesn’t work. Spotify should still be fine.” he answered, which was a satisfactory response. She took the box, dropping it into her purse. It didn’t matter the phone number, she knew how to work the software to get her old one attached to it. She paused for a moment, eyeing the container that he’d previously been holding. She had an idea. 

“Would there happen to be another one in there?” she questioned casually. Nicolae perked an eyebrow.

“Is this one not good enough for you?” he answered her question with a question. 

“Oh no this one is perfect. I just know a friend that could use one too.” she explained, giving him a winning smile. 

“Would this happen to be your neighbor friend?” he asked in a conspiratory manner, surprising Mika.

“Yes, why do you ask?” she continued. He gave her a mischievous look that frankly made her a little nervous.

“Elena’s been scheming.” he replied, turning and looking through the bin again. He didn’t see Mika roll her eyes as he grabbed another box. He checked the yellow tag on it and grimaced. “This is the only other one, but turns out there’s a bug that inhibits Facebook and Twitter. But there’s another shipment coming in next week, I’m sure there’ll be at least one lemon in the bunch.”

“Oh, he won’t care about that.” she said, waving him off and holding her hand out for the box. Nicolae perked an eyebrow, but handed it over anyway.

“Really? No social media for him, huh?” he asked, as if that should arise her suspicions. She shrugged in response. 

“Nope. Not into it.” she replied, eyeing the yellow tag so that she could differentiate the phones later. He locked up the box, and they made their way back out into the hallway. She was glad when they were out of the elevator and above ground. 

“I thought you didn’t trust anyone without an online presence?” he pointed out, pausing in the lobby. Mika shrugged again.

“He’s obviously got a lot of baggage. Figure he deserves his privacy.” she said nonchalantly. She couldn’t deny that she had an intense desire to cyberstalk her neighbor, but so far she’d been able to contain herself. Bucky wasn’t some dude at a bar trying to hide a girlfriend, he was clearly someone just trying to start a new life. Nicolae made a noise of disbelief.

“Sounds fake, but okay.” he said. He checked his watch, startling and pressing the button for the elevator again. “I’ve got to run. You go home and...get better I guess?” 

“We’ll go with that. Thanks, Nicolae, I’ll see you later.” she said, kissing his cheek goodbye and walking out of the building. Different security guards checked her out, not giving the two phones in her purse a second glance. They never did. The work in the building was so heavily focused on technology that it didn’t concern them. She made it back to her car without any concern, escaping downtown just before the early afternoon rush. Nicolae hadn’t mentioned his phone or messenger going off, so she assumed Bucky was back asleep. At least, she had to tell herself over and over that he was asleep so that she didn’t speed through Bucharest in an effort to get home faster. She returned her car to its spot and started her walk home, trying to enjoy the sunshine instead of worrying about her friend. Her stomach growled as she passed by a few food vendors, but she didn’t stop. Her anxiety wouldn’t let her waste time like that. She thought about ordering a pizza, but remembered her phone was currently nonfunctioning. She would just have to make do. 

She was honestly a little surprised to find Bucky still sitting on her couch when she returned. She hadn’t expected her mom voice to work that well, and was very glad to see him actually listening to her and resting. He wasn’t sleeping, but she could forgive that. The plates in front of him were empty, as well as his glass. The color was starting to come back into his face now. He gave her a brief smile, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The metal of his arm clicked as he adjusted. He tried to hide a wince as he moved, but he couldn’t, not completely. She didn’t know if he allowed the tiny slip in his stoic features, or if he was actually in so much pain that he couldn’t stop himself. He looked at her with some sort of vague expression, but she couldn’t quite decipher it. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked quietly, coming to sit next to him on the couch again. 

“Better, thank you.” he said, his eyes dropping from her. His hands were clasped in front of him, his fingers moving in slow patterns over his palms. He was nervous, and he was letting her see it. She just didn’t understand why - why he was nervous, or why he was forthcoming with it. She gave him a reassuring smile and picked up his water glass, going to the sink to refill it and give him a moment to collect his thoughts. She grabbed a package of toaster pastries for herself, deciding that was a worthwhile snack until they decided on supper.

“Here you go.” she said softly, handing the glass to him. He nodded in thanks, taking a sip from it before just holding it in front of him, staring into it as if it held the answers. She carefully tore open the package to her food, the crinkle of the foil package sounding loud to her ears. The movie was still playing, and she feigned interest in it. Something was balancing between them, waiting to tip over the edge. She had the feeling he wanted to say something, but she didn’t want to force it, even if she was dying to know what it was. Either he’d break down and share it, or he’d stifle it, and she’d be left to wonder for another day. His breaths were slow and even, with no trace of a wheeze or a gurgle. She took small bites of her food, waiting.

“During the War, I fell from a train.” he said. His voice was so quiet, she barely heard him. She immediately stopped chewing, turning to look at him. He put his glass of water on the coffee table, going back to squeezing his palms together. He didn’t know what finally pushed him into speaking the words aloud that had been running through his head for the past hour. Her eyes were wide, sympathetic. She hadn’t been expecting him to say anything. And if she did, it wasn’t this. 

“Bucky, you don’t have to. I’m sorry for what I said earlier-” she started, but he interrupted her with a shake of his head. No, this was something he needed to do. He needed to prove, both to her and to himself, that he could trust her, at least a little bit. Every alarm in his head was screeching at him, telling him to shut up, to retreat. He was giving up information. He was told never to give up information.

“You don’t owe me an apology. You were right.” he said. He took another long moment, gathering his thoughts. Mika had been unabashedly herself for the entirety of their friendship, despite his standoffishness and hesitance. She had always been helpful and patient and respectful of his privacy. He couldn’t tell her the whole story, of course. He hoped he would never have to tell anyone the whole story. But she deserved to know at least part of it. “I fell from a train, and I lost my arm. I was found by the enemy, and taken. They gave me this one, but they had to...do things. To make sure I survived it. That’s why I heal so fast.”

“You were a prisoner of war.” she said, her voice a breathy whisper. He finally turned to look at her. The expression she wore wasn’t one of pity (which he was thankful for), but he couldn’t quite interpret it. Tears were shimmering in her eyes again. Twice in one day, he’d made her cry. He didn’t like it.

“I was with them for a long time.” he said, putting an air of finality on his statement. That was all he could share. He wished he could be more open with her, but this was the most he could do. He held his breath as he waited for her response, waiting to see if he could continue trying to live his life, or if he needed to start learning Croatian. Behind her emotions, she was calculating something. His blood suddenly went cold. She was putting the pieces together. He’d said too much, and she knew too much. She was going to realize that he was the Winter Soldier. His muscles tensed, and he swallowed back the guilt and heartbreak as he prepared to incapacitate her and run. 

But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned slowly and cautiously toward him, keeping her hands in sight until she gently wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his shoulder. She was  _ hugging _ him.

He sat very still, overwhelmed by every detail of this situation. Her arms were warm against his chest and his back, her breath tickling his skin. The flyaway bits of hair from her bun barely brushed against his neck. He thought she might let go after a moment, but she didn’t, and he found that he didn’t want her to. He let out a long breath, relaxing his posture. He gradually moved his hand until it rested against against her upper arm. Her skin was soft, incredibly soft. He grazed his thumb over it once, but refrained from doing it again. It felt too personal, too intimate. But the hug? The hug felt nice. His heart was quiet in a way that it hadn’t been in a long time.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, but eventually she pulled away. His skin felt cold where she’d been touching him. “Thank you, for sharing that with me.” she said, sniffling and wiping her eyes. He nodded, his throat feeling oddly thick and inhibiting him from speaking. She reached over to her purse, pulling out two black boxes. “This seems so much less important after this conversation, but…”   


“What is it?” he asked. He was completely unaware of proper protocol following such a serious moment, and was grateful for any sort of distraction. She looked at the yellow tags on the boxes before picking one of them, popping it open. There sat a shiny new iPhone. She powered it on and typed a few numbers into it before hooking it up to her computer.

“Just in case you ever get into trouble, you have a way to call me. So that maybe you don’t have to walk five kilometers on a broken ankle.” she explained, her eyes focusing as she ran some sort of program on the computer. A few minutes and keystrokes later, and she was satisfied with her work. She unplugged the phone, handing it to him. Four squares blinked up at him. “Go ahead, pick your passcode.” she said, turning away from him and picking up the second device. 

“I can’t accept this.” he said quietly. This was too much of a logistical nightmare. He could be tracked through this, found through it.

“Sure you can. It’s free. My company gets a shit ton of these all the time, but sometimes they’re lemons and something doesn’t work right. There’s two year prepaid service, and it’s routed through the company. Plus, I took the liberty of adding the extra security measures I add to my own phone.” she said, plugging what he assumed was her new phone into her computer. She’d really thought this through. He still thought the security compromise was too great, but he figured he could at least try for a day or two before finding a way to rectify the situation. He carefully keyed in the number  _ 1917 _ . She turned back to him, startling him for a moment. “Oh, by the way, Facebook doesn’t work.”

“What’s Facebook?” he asked. He didn’t like the sound of that. He did not want his face in any books. She laughed, going back to her screen.

“That’s what I thought.” she said, typing a few more things before unplugging the phone. She pulled up an app he’d seen her use a few times. “I’m starving. Do you want pizza? I want pizza.” 

“Pizza sounds good.” he replied, giving her a smile. Every day of their friendship, he felt like he was taking a risk. But today? Today the risk paid off. He had no desire to be vulnerable like that for a long time, but knowing that he  _ could _ be vulnerable, and on his own terms,  _ and _ that he had someone who would be understanding and supportive?

That’s what made all the difference. 


	17. Words Around Him

Bucky didn’t know what he thought would happen after his small confession, but it turned out to be less than he anticipated. Mika still smiled just as easily, still joked just as often. But to him, there was a huge weight lifted, even if the piece of his past he’d shown her was so small and inconsequential. It was an odd feeling, one that he identified as  _ emotional closeness _ . He hadn’t been close to anyone since 1943. It was kind of liberating.

Besides the emotional closeness, he also could not stop thinking about the physical closeness from their encounter. When was the last time someone hugged him? Probably 1943 again. He could still feel the weight of her arms around him, the warmth of her skin on his. She hadn’t shied away from his elevated body temperature, or been scared of touching the spiderweb of scars covering his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture, which surprised him. He’d gone so long without affection from another human being that he assumed he no longer required it for his wellness. But he would need to take that under reconsideration.

Over two weeks had passed since the incident at the warehouse, but the entire area was still roped off for investigation. Bucky still went there every night, hoping that he would be allowed to work again, but each night he was turned away by yellow tape and darkened windows. At this point he wondered if he was, in fact, out of a job. He’d stored enough cash to cover his rent for a couple months, but it would not last forever. His new grocery habits weren’t helping either. 

Night had just fallen when he began his walk back, the darkness even emptier and quieter than usual. In his pocket, he felt his phone vibrate and heard it ding. Mika had taught him how to text, but he still couldn’t figure out how to get the damn thing to stop making noises. He pulled it out, unlocking it to read her message real quick. Turns out that owning a phone meant that she was now able to increase the amount of random invitations she extended towards Bucky. Not that he minded, of course. Since he didn’t have to look her in the eye as he responded, he didn’t feel as bad about telling her no. Which he did, pretty much every time. 

_ We’re going out tonight. If you don’t have work, you should come with! _

He prepared himself to politely decline, as he had every time for the past couple weeks. But as he walked past the dark church a few blocks from the apartment buildings, he was reminded of a moment like this a few days ago, when he’d been having tea with Father Filip.  _ Jones, I’ve seen you turn down three invitations from that girl over the past two weeks. Now, do you not like her?  _ He’d asked. Of course Bucky had replied that he did, in fact, like her. After all, she was by far his closest friend. But he didn’t see what that had to do with it, and voiced this confusion. Filip had laughed, shaking his head as if Bucky was some clueless teenager. The only advice he’d offered after that was,  _ You’re young, Jones. But you won’t be young forever. Don’t wait until it’s too late to live your life the way you want. _

Bucky paused on the street as the words echoed through his mind. He’d forgotten that Filip said that. And the old man made a good point. Mika’s text still stared at him from the screen, the little blue line blinking as it waited for him to choose his reply. He knew, of course, that everyone must die someday. After all, many people had been led to their deaths by the metal of his hand. But this was different. It felt different, at least. Perhaps it was because he was the farthest removed he’d been from the Soldier, or maybe it was because he had an actual friend. Perhaps the Father was right. He stared at the text long and hard before carefully keying in,  _ Ok. _

He let the message sit there for a full minute before thinking  _ fuck it _ and sending it. Of course, as soon as he’d pressed that little blue arrow, he immediately regretted it. He wished, with every fiber of his being, that he could take it back. What was he thinking, agreeing to go out to a bar? The logistics would be a nightmare, the risk too great. He was perfectly comfortable interacting with Mika, but her initial message implied that her friends would be there as well. And he was sure that her friends were nice. But he didn’t know them. And he didn’t know the bar. He didn’t like not knowing things.

His spiralling thoughts were interrupted by his phone dinging again, Mika’s name appearing on the screen. He swiped to open the message:  _ YAY. Leaving in about fifteen minutes. You home? _

Well, it was too late now. Mika was emotionally invested. Shit. What was he going to do? He knew that it wasn’t a good idea for him to go out. But he also didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on her face when he changed his mind. He could go out for a few minutes, probably. He could say hello, order a drink, pay and make his exit. She was usually understanding of his more  _ unique _ qualities, so he was sure if he left after a short period she wouldn’t question it. Part of him was pissed at how anxious he was over this situation, but he was  _ too _ anxious to let it take up more room in his brain. It took him a moment to remember she had asked him a question, and he carefully typed his response:  _ Not yet. Will wait downstairs. _

He could feel his nerves tingling as he kept walking, and not for the first time he found himself wishing it was the dead of winter. The cold always calmed him. The summer heat felt stifling in this nervous state. Mika wasn’t downstairs yet when he got back to the building, so he stood against the wall to wait. He ran his metal thumb over the palm of his other hand, trying to distract himself from what was to come. With his enhanced hearing, he could hear her familiar footsteps as she made it down the last few floors. He pushed off the wall as she exited the building, spotting him and giving him a bright smile. She had on makeup, but it wasn’t as dramatic as he’d seen before. He liked it. 

“I’m so excited you’re coming!” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder affectionately for a moment before stepping away and putting space between them. Surprisingly, the friendly gesture seemed to abate his worries for a moment. He took a deep breath, keeping his face neutral as he chose his words.

“I’ll try at least.” he said. If he was going to make a quick exit tonight, he needed to start setting it up now. That would lessen the surprise for her later, and make her less likely to try and convince him to stay. She shrugged, her hands resting on the strap of her purse as it crossed her chest.

“That’s all I can ask.” she replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was fidgeting; was she as nervous as he was? Or just excited, as she’d said earlier? He chose to assume it was the latter. 

“You look nice.” he observed. It was true - she had on a floral, lacy dress he’d never seen her wear. Granted, he hadn’t seen her wear most anything besides leggings and t-shirts. With the tall shoes she was wearing, they stood eye to eye. In fact, she might be a little taller than him now. 

“Thank you,” she said, giving a little twirl to make the skirt of her dress flutter. “You look like you just came from work. Are you sure you don’t want to go change before we go?”

He gave a dry laugh. He had a suspicious feeling that she would be appalled by the variety in his closet, or lack thereof. “It’d just be the same shirt, but a different color.” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets. Mika let out a groan, her gaze going heavenward for a moment before she looked back at him.

“One of these days we’re going shopping.” she said, gesturing with her head to start walking north. She walked rather quickly for how tall her shoes were.

“I’m good.” he replied, following her up the street. He wondered which pub they were going to, as there were three this direction that he’d seen in his nightly perimeter checks. She let out an indignant noise.

“Oh, that wasn’t a question. I’m telling you, we’re going shopping and getting you some real clothes.” she said, giving him a pointed look. She seemed very serious. Again, her stubbornness was showing.

“These are perfectly real.” he said back, gesturing to his clothing. He knew they weren’t spectacular, but that was the point. They were made to be durable and nondescript. He didn’t need to stand out. He needed to fade into the background.

“Real old man-like.” she sassed, not knowing how deep the truth of her statement was. “Bucky, I say this with all the love in my heart, you dress like my grandfather.”

“Sounds like your grandfather was a respectable and practical man.” he said, grinning at his own response. He tucked away her comment about the  _ love in her heart _ , he could unpack that later when he was alone. She crossed her arms, giving him an annoyed look. 

“Always have an answer for everything don’t you?” she asked lowly, her exasperation evident. He thought she was used to winning exchanges like this. He felt a strange sense of pride for getting the upper hand. 

“Only most of the time.” he replied, letting out a low chuckle. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you dress like you’re a hundred years old. We need to get you into something from, you know, this century.” she said, and he couldn’t help but laugh at her statement. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t one hundred years old, thank you, he was only ninety-six. But he held his tongue, figuring that sort of confession wasn’t appropriate for this situation.

“I’ll take it into consideration.” he finally relented, knowing that he could easily talk himself out of it when the time came. She gave a curt nod, a triumphant grin on her face.

“Good. But it’ll have to be another night, cause we’re here.” she said, pointing to a place up ahead of them. The brick building looked more stately than he thought it would, with an ornate golden knocker on a green door. His nerves, which had calmed with the distraction of walking and conversation, suddenly came screaming back. This was a mistake. He could hear the noise of the crowd inside, the shuffle of people and the low music. “Hey, you okay?”

The sound of Mika’s voice cut through the impending panic. She was looking at him with concern in her eyes, her hand gently touching his elbow. He swallowed heavily, looking away from her for a second and clocking the area. One exit, that he could see. Minimal foot traffic right now, though that would probably pick up as the night went on. But he wouldn’t be here that long. He looked back to her. She looked very worried now. He didn’t want her to worry. That was supposed to be his job. “Yea, yea I’m okay. Just been a long time since I’ve been out like this.” he explained. She gave him an encouraging smile.

“You’ll have fun, I promise. We’re just hanging out, your specialty.” she said, her hand on the door. He took a deep, calming breath. Maybe this wasn’t familiar to him, but it was to her. He could follow her lead here. He recalled some of the social etiquettes they’d shocked into him. All else failed, he could figure it out. He just didn’t want to have to. 

“For sure.” he said, lacing his voice with sarcasm. If only she knew how long it took for him to “hang out” without over analyzing every moment. She smiled at him again, patting his arm and pushing the door open. His senses were immediately bombarded. He was overwhelmed with the cacophony of voices and music, the sound of glasses sliding across tables grating to his ears. He focused on Mika, following her to a table in the corner. Good, this one would give him an easier view of the door without being front and center. A group of people greeted her emphatically. There were less people in the pub than he’d anticipated, but still more than he was comfortable with. 

“Bucky, this is Jonas, Maria, and Nicolae. And you already know Elena.” she introduced him, pointing out her friends in turn. He tried to commit their names to memory; this would definitely be a test later. Elena scooted out of the booth, bouncing up to them. The scent of alcohol floated lightly around her.

“Bucky!” she cried, launching herself onto him and wrapping her arms around him. His initial instinct was to throw her, and he nearly tore the muscles in his back keeping himself still. His right arm went around her waist, holding her steady. He slowly counted his breaths in and out, trying to keep them steady. He must have looked a little panicked, because Mika grabbed her by the hips and pulled her away from him.

“Rude, you hug him before you hug me?” she asked, pulling her friend into a tight embrace. She threw Bucky a wink over her shoulder, holding the hug long enough for Elena to forget her initial mission. 

“I can’t help it, I wasn’t expecting to see him out and about. You know how I am with surprises.” Elena said, pulling away and sliding back into the booth next to...Jonas. That was his name. Mika slid in opposite of her, leaving the edge seat for him. She greeted Nicolae with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, settling into the booth seat and immediately taking some food from his plate. Nicolae and Jonas reached across the table to him, offering their hands to shake as they introduced themselves. He willed his face to relax, giving them an easy smile and he responded. This was fine. He could handle this. He’d just have to focus, to make sure his senses didn’t get overrun. The conversation, the door, and the farthest corner. Those were his priorities. 

“Who surprised you?” another voice came. He’d noted this man walking towards them, and was glad to see he appeared to be a friend. Good, he didn’t have to incapacitate someone first thing. He didn’t think that would go over well with his new friends.

“Bucky!” Elena explained, gesturing towards him. It took everything in him not to duck his eyes at the attention. Normal people maintained eye contact when they first met. He could do this. He could pretend to be normal. 

“This is Alexei.” Mika said, introducing them. There was a slight change in the intonation of her voice, as if her throat were a little tighter. This must be her friend that was...not her favorite. Bucky gave him stiff, polite smile, shaking his hand.

“Bucky is Mika’s neighbor.” Elena stated, as if the explanation carried some sort of weight. Alexei gave a laugh that sounded forced to Bucky. 

“That’s unfortunate.” he said snidely, squeezing into the booth across from them. The rest of her friends seemed okay, but there was something different about this one. If  _ Mika _ didn’t fully trust him, then Bucky sure as hell didn’t trust him. Not even a little. Maria leaned across the table, waving towards the bar until she caught the bartender’s attention. The man nodded at them, finishing up a few transactions before weaving between the other patrons to their table.

“Gang’s all here, huh?” he asked, giving them a warm smile. Mika scooted closer to Bucky, resting her elbow on the back of the booth next to him.

“Plus an extra. Hans, this is my friend Bucky.” she said, getting his attention. Hans turned to Bucky, and his jaw went a little slack. At first he was worried that he recognized him as the Winter Soldier, but he didn’t have the look of fear that all of his victims did. No, he had a look on his face that he didn’t quite understand.

“Holy shit your eyes are so blue.” he murmured, making Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. Elena busted out laughing, and the rest of the group joined in. Even Bucky couldn’t stop a corner of his mouth from lifting up. Hans was different than the others as well, but in a good way. Something about him seemed more trustworthy somehow. He wondered if that was from his previous life; he remembered frequenting many establishments just like this one. He could always trust a good bartender. Hans grimaced, closing his eyes with a pained look. “Oh God, I said that out loud didn’t I?”

“Loud and clear.” Nicolae said, still laughing. Hans pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a big breath before facing his audience again. 

“Right, well, sorry about that. It’s been a long night and apparently I have no filter. Anyway, now that I want to jump out a window, why don’t I go get everyone drinks, hm?” he said with a laugh that was clearly fake and covering his chagrin. Bucky didn’t understand why he was embarrassed; after all, his eyes were, in fact, blue. And not many people were usually brave enough to look him in the eye. 

“Love you, Hans.” Jonas cooed, wiggling his fingers as the other man stalked away, weighed down by his shame. Bucky turned to Mika, his brows knit together in confusion. 

“He didn’t ask what we wanted.” he murmured so that only she could hear him. He also wanted to ask why everyone was laughing at his comment about his eyes, but figured he should cover one topic at a time. She gave him a half hearted shrug, as if she didn’t really have an answer for him.

“He never does. I’ve stopped trying to figure it out.” she said, as if that wasn’t an incredibly alarming statement. Did she not realize that there were mind readers in this world? What if he was one of them? She got distracted by Nicolae’s hand on her shoulder, pulling her into a conversation. They spoke with their faces relatively close, closer than usual. Her hand rested casually on his wrist, a familiar touch. Bucky thought it odd, but also figured that it would keep her occupied enough for him to run some reconnaissance. Hans was across the pub, dutifully mixing drinks and interacting with his customers. He did not give off the same dangerous impression that he’d felt with mind readers before. In fact, with his candor and demeanor, he seemed the most trustworthy of the bunch. He would be innocent until proven guilty. The two people in the opposite corner of the booth - Jonas and Maria - were talking animatedly with Elena, who was gesturing wildly with her hands. From context clues, they were discussing a recent movie. He recognized the title from the posters around town, but Mika hadn’t chosen it for movie night yet. Despite meeting Elena multiple times before, she still made him uneasy, if only because she didn’t seem quite as intuitive as Mika. Alexei was just observing, much like he was. But his eyes kept flicking back to Bucky. He was worried for a moment that he might recognize him, but that wasn’t the look he had on his face. He’d seen men with that look before, and it was usually in the same context as his current situation, except usually he had a girl on his arm.

“Okay, here we go.” Hans said, arriving back at their table with a tray of drinks. He sat the various glasses down in front of the group, saving Bucky for last. The rest watched, almost holding their breath as they waited to see what was chosen for him. The others had fancy drinks, carefully mixed and poured into their various elaborate glasses. And in front of Bucky, Hans put a simple clay mug filled with black coffee.

“What? Just coffee?” Elena asked, seemingly confused about the choice. He had to admit, coffee was what he wanted most at that moment. Hans gave her a bewildered look.

“Uh, yea? What else?” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to the two of them, it was. Yes, he liked Hans. The bartender walked away, going back to his post, and the people around him continued their conversations. Mika tried a few times to include him in this, but his answers were short and cordial. He was having trouble focusing again. The pub was starting to fill now, the volume raising and the air becoming thicker. He took a sip of his coffee, the sharp bitterness helping to cleanse his senses. He was having trouble distinguishing the conversations, and his view of the exit was hit-or-miss with the flow of bodies through the space. He could hear his own heartbeat thumping with the bassline of whatever song was playing. It was getting too crowded. He was getting nervous again. This was a bad idea. This was a  _ bad idea _ .

“Bucky!” Mika’s voice cut through his impending implosion. His eyes snapped to hers, and he willed every fiber of himself to calm down. Or, at least, to appear calm. She looked like she was waiting for him to answer something, but for the life of him he didn’t know what it was.

“Sorry, what did I miss?” he asked. Whatever had happened in the conversation the past few minutes, he had no idea. She smiled encouragingly at him, her hand reaching slightly towards him before she pulled it back and settled it in her lap.

“The dart board is open, we’re going to go play.” she explained, concern creeping into her expression. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Bucky cut her off. He didn’t want her to question his current state of wellbeing, because he wouldn’t be able to lie to her.

“Okay.” he said, sliding out of the booth and immediately moving to avoid another patron. He gave a curt nod and begged his pardon, ducking his head down to hid behind the bill of his baseball cap. Mika slipped out from the booth as well, nodding her head towards the opposite corner of the bar. Nicolae led them through, taking Mika’s hand as they tried to thread through the pub. He tried to follow her through the room, but there were a lot of people there now. Too many people. He stopped in the middle of the room as they tried to squeeze past another group, but he couldn’t bring himself continue their path. The walls felt like they were closing in on him. He needed to go. Now.

Without a second thought, he pushed through the crowd and to the door. The street was (miraculously) nearly empty, and the heat had faded since the sun went down. He pushed his hands into his pockets, trying to calm his racing heart. He turned towards the apartments, taking off with long strides. But he barely passed the edge of the building before he stopped. He couldn’t just leave Mika with no explanation. But he couldn’t go back in there either. He thought he’d done very well for his first night out, but it was time for it to end. He took a few paces back and forth before just stopping, leaning his back against the brick of the building and letting his head fall back for a moment. He took slow, even breaths, trying to remember the counting from yoga. He couldn’t leave, but he could wait. 

Footsteps sounded on the sidewalk, but they weren’t Mika’s. He lowered his head, glancing out from under his cap. A young woman was walking towards him, the  _ clack-clack-clack _ of her sandals announcing her arrival. She had a floral shawl that was fluttering in the breeze, and her face looked as if she fancied herself in another place. Under the warm light of the street lamps, he couldn’t tell if her hair was blonde or silver, but her eyes were definitely green. And they were looking right at him. He shifted his feet, preparing to fight and flee. No one looked at him like that without having an ulterior motive. His muscles buzzed as she continued towards him, time seeming to slow down. His breaths were calm now. Fighting was something familiar. Fighting didn’t scare him. She stopped a few feet away from him, reaching into her pocket. He pulled his metal arm from his, the fingers curling and uncurling as his nerves lit on fire. 

But she didn’t pull out a gun, or a knife, or a baton. She just pulled out a carton of cigarettes, removing one with her pink painted lips before offering the box to him. 

“You look like you could use one.” she said, gesturing with the box again. Bucky didn’t know what to do, and found himself carefully reaching out and plucking one from its place. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smoked a cigarette. She leaned against the wall next to him, fishing a lighter from her pocket and lighting up before returning it to its place. She didn’t offer it to him, which was curious. He put the unlit cigarette between his lips anyways, the weight of it familiar. He didn’t really care to smoke it, even though it would have no ill effect on him. 

“Uh, thanks.” he said, remembering his manners. His lips held onto it as he spoke, the skill returning instantly. Seemed old habits ran deep. The girl took a long drag from hers, the smoke billowing away as she tilted her face skyward and blew. The breeze took the cloud away from him, but he still caught the familiar scent of tobacco. He could taste it ever so slightly on his tongue, despite his not being lit. 

“You waiting on someone?” she asked, looking at him with those laser green eyes. Her gaze was slightly unfocused, and Bucky had the feeling that she had partaken in more than just cigarettes tonight. She seemed to be on a different level of existence than he. 

“Just needed some air.” he said, speaking around the stick in his mouth. He heard his accent change with the habit, and suddenly he understood Mika’s comment from the farmer’s market. Seemed like the older the habit, the more  _ James Buchanan Barnes _ came out. The girl nodded appreciatively, humming her agreement.

“Life’s a lot sometimes.” she said vaguely, as if she were giving a prophecy or a poetry reading. Her cigarette was already halfway gone. Thank goodness, he did not want this conversation to go any longer than it had to.

“True.” he said, not knowing how else to respond. What did this girl know about life being a lot? She was just a kid. Granted, most everyone was a kid compared to him. She finally looked away from him, turning her eyes back to the sky.

“So what plagues you, mister? Past, present, or future?” she asked. He didn’t like that. She asked too many questions, and was obviously not very predictable. Her disposition reminded him of a fortune teller he’d once encountered, though they did not look at all similar physically. More smoke smoothly slid from her lips. He stayed silent, not wanting to invite more conversation. He wanted her to leave. He supposed he could be the one to make a move, but that would mean leaving Mika behind, which he didn’t want to do. He could go back inside...but he didn’t want to do that either. “No answer? Must be the past then. The past is always the heaviest. You can’t ever forget it. But you can’t let it clamp you down. Remember that.” 

Bucky continued his silence, watching her from the corner of his eye as she dropped the butt of the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it.  _ You can’t let it clamp you down _ . Very unusual wording. His distrust grew. She thanked him for the smoke (which was weird, since she was the one who offered) before gliding away, looking like she  _ felt _ like she was floating. He watched her as she drifted down the sidewalk, blinking in and out of existence as she passed under the street lamps. As far as interactions with strangers went, this one was by far the most bizarre. Part of him felt like it was a hallucination.

His thoughts were interrupted by the pub door opening, the noises from inside spilling onto the sidewalk. Mika walked out, looking the opposite direction before turning and spotting him against the wall. 

“There you are, are you okay?” she asked, concern coloring her face. She walked up to him, crossing her arms over her middle. He wondered if she was stopping herself from reaching out to him. He’d noticed over the past couple weeks that she did that a lot. 

“Yea, just needed a second.” he said. She came and leaned up against the wall next to him, on the opposite side of the strange girl from a moment ago. She studied his face for a moment before speaking again.

“Those things can kill you, you know.” she said, gesturing to his mouth with a grin. He’d forgotten the cigarette was still between his lips. Guess the strange girl wasn’t a hallucination then. He lifted one corner of his mouth, amused at her joke. He took it out, eyeing it and turning it between his fingers.

“Couldn’t tell you the last time I actually smoked one.” he said, wracking his brain for the memory. He didn’t think he could recall it even if the whole Hydra thing hadn’t happened. She tilted her head to the side.

“You used to smoke?” she asked, curious. He’d realized pretty quickly into his liberated life that smoking was not as commonplace as it used to be, so her surprise wasn’t unfounded. He nodded.

“All the time. Everyone did. We didn’t know how bad it was.” he explained. The last statement may have given too much away, but it was too late to take it back. He flicked the thing into the trash can across from them, the  _ ding _ echoing through the quiet night. Her eyebrows raised.

“Nice shot. Sure you don’t wanna come play darts?” she asked, nodding towards the door. He shook his head.

“I appreciate your invitation tonight. But this sort of thing is…” he recalled the girl’s words from earlier, “...a lot, for me.”

She gave him an understanding smile, and once again he noticed her gripping the skirt of her dress as if to keep her hands busy. “That’s fair. Let me go grab my purse, and we can head home.” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-” he didn’t want to ruin her night, but she shut down his statement with a look.

“It’s not a big deal. Gives me an excuse to go home and binge watch something on Netflix. I’ll be right back.” she said, turning on her heel and marching back inside. She weaved through the packed pub back to where the darts were, picking up her purse and putting the strap across her body.

“Whoa whoa whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Elena asked, putting her arm around her shoulders. Mika slid hers around her waist, laying her head against her shoulder dramatically.

“I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to go on home.” she said, giving her most pitiful look. It was a lame excuse, but an effective one. Elena whined dramatically.

“But what about Bucky?” she asked. Mika almost scoffed since her best friend had made her priorities known, but stopped herself. It didn’t matter, she was distracted and that was the important thing.

“He’s going to walk me home right quick, but I think he may come back out.” she fibbed. Elena was quickly transforming into Drunk Elena, and Drunk Elena would forget about this little conversation until approximately two o’clock in the morning. She shrugged, accepting her answer and giving her a rough hug and a wet kiss on the cheek. 

“Okay, see you later! Love you bye!” she sang, going back to the group. Mika waved goodbye to the others, sliding up to the bar and handing Hans enough cash to cover her drinks for the evening.

“So, do I have any chance with your new friend?” he asked, giving her a hopeful look. She patted his hand affectionately.

“Sorry, Hans, I don’t think so.” she said sympathetically. He let out a dramatic sigh.

“Such is life.” he said, only looking a little bit sad at her answer. “Have a good night, I’ll see you around.”

“Bye, Hans.” she said, turning and pushing her way through the crowd until she was back outside. Bucky was still waiting for her outside, and he almost seemed surprised when she came back out. “Ready?”

“You sure?” he asked. He seemed hesitant, which she thought was weird. He was very ready to leave a second ago. She nodded.

“Absolutely.” she said. Truth be told, she was tired and ready to go to bed. This was the perfect excuse to leave early. She waited for Bucky to push off from the wall before they started walking back towards the apartment. She went to link their arms together, but stopped herself, remembering his personal space and also the face he’d made earlier. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walked home. The summer air was pleasant, and she didn’t mind the quiet as they walked down the streets and eventually up the stairs. She leaned against the wall after unlocking her door, giving him an innocent smile. “Would you maybe have a minute to make peppermint tea for me?”

He gave her a sly grin. “What, can’t make it yourself?” he asked, pretending he wouldn’t even though he’d already put his keys back in pocket. She shrugged.

“It never turns out quite as good as yours. Yours is the best.” she said smoothly, giving him her best puppy dog impression. He rolled his eyes at her antics.

“Full of shit.” he said, stepping towards her. She smiles, pushing the door open and walking inside. He followed her in, letting out a huff of a laugh as she tossed her purse to the side and kicked off her heels. She hopped onto the kitchen counter, swinging her legs as he started making her tea. She needed a way to get out her nervous energy.

“I’m sorry tonight wasn’t very fun.” she said, looking down at her hands and picking at her nail polish. He turned, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“No need to apologize. It was fun.” he replied. She gave him a knowing look, perfectly aware that he was not being entirely truthful with her. He sighed, accepting that the jig was up. “I can’t tell you the last time I went out to a bar. It’ll take a little getting used to.”

“That’s fair.” she said, looking back up at him. “Honestly, I’m proud of you for coming at all.” 

He let out a  _ hmph _ , shaking his head. “Smartass.” he said, pushing off the counter as the kettle began to sing. With his hands busy and his back to her, he seemed to build up enough bravery to ask her, “Is Nicolae your boyfriend?”

“Nicolae?” she asked, letting out a giggle. “No. He was my first friend here in the city. Very much just a friend. Why?”

He turned back to her, the tea set and steeping and his expression reading as if he were trying to solve a confusing math problem. “You two were just very...close. But it seems I’m a little rusty on some social cues.”

“You’re fine.” she said in a reassuring tone. After all, she knew she had a tendency to be a little more  _ friendly _ than most people. “I’ve been told I’m a bit overaffectionate with my friends.”

His brows furrowed. He’d added another variable to his math problem. “You aren’t with me. But we’re friends, right?” he asked. He didn’t seem hurt, or offended. Only confused. Mika almost dissolved into tears right then and felt like a knife stabbed her heart, but held herself together. 

“Of course we’re friends. Really good friends. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know that your space is important to you and I didn’t want to do anything to make you uneasy or nervous or...” she over explained. She pressed her lips together, stopping herself from rambling any further and making things worse. She never thought her giving him space would be the issue. He nodded, accepting her explanation, but his expression remained the same. He tilted his head to the side, seeing the problem from a different angle.

“I don’t think I’d mind.” he finally said, his voice quiet and confident. Mika perked an eyebrow. That was certainly a surprise. 

“Really? Cause you didn’t see your face when Elena jumped you earlier.” she pointed out. He snorted, shaking his head.

“Elena is something else. I don’t know her. She’s too unpredictable. It’s different with you.” he replied. He reached behind him, grabbing her tea and handing it to her. She took it gratefully, sipping the hot drink carefully. As per usual, he’d made it perfectly. Damn him. 

“You’re not wrong.” she responded, alluding to the portion of his statement regarding Elena. An idea struck her. She put the mug down on the kitchen counter, sliding off so her feet were on the floor. “Well, only one way to find out. Come here.” she continued, holding her arms out. He hesitated for a moment before stepping toward her, letting her arms go around his neck and her chest press against his. He paused for just a moment before allowing his right hand to rest on her upper back and pull her just a little bit closer. He could feel his heart hammering against his sternum. Or was that hers? He couldn’t quite differentiate. He let out his breath, relaxing into the embrace. Her skin was warm against his, and the scent of flowers surrounded him. It was just as comforting as it had been the other day. And while he had to make sure not to squeeze too hard with his enhanced strength, he didn’t feel like he was going to hurt her. When she pulled away, he felt oddly cold, but neither anxious nor compromised. He felt calm, and comfortable, and in control.

He felt...good.


	18. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

Somewhere around two in the morning, Bucky realized he’d forgotten to pay for his coffee. 

It wasn’t quite his fault, he knew. Between the increased lack of sleep over the past two weeks and the mild panic attack the night before, forgetting to settle the check was understandable. Part of him even threatened to be apathetic about it. After all, with the things he’d done in his past, stealing a cup of coffee was the least of his worries. But he was supposed to be a new man now. He was supposed to be better. He didn’t need to be pushed any further into the red. Although the thought of returning to the bar stuffed with prying eyes was enough to make him rethink...everything. 

Around six o’clock, he came to a conclusion. He would just stop by right after opening. It was an easy solution. Odds were low that many people would be present, and he would be able to settle his tab with no complications. The only problem was he had no idea when the doors would be unlocked. He pulled out his phone, figuring he could use his one source that may have information on the subject. He was getting better at this whole “texting” thing, but it still gave him a little trouble, especially since he could only use one hand. 

_ What time does the pub open? _ He carefully typed out his message before sending it. He couldn’t remember the name of the place, though he knew he could recognize it. He just needed to know when to make his visit. Mika texted him back almost immediately, which surprised him given the early hour.

_ Ready for another night out already? _ was her first message, accompanied by a yellow face winking at him. She used these little yellow faces a lot, and he wasn’t quite sure where they came from. He started typing his answer, but was interrupted by another message from her. This confused him too. Why didn’t she just send everything at once?  _ Not sure though. According to Google it’s 6 pm, but I know that’s a lie.  _ That was too late, it increased the likelihood of excess patrons.

_ Forgot to settle my tab _ . He responded, figuring that was explanation enough. It still felt weird to talk via these little notes, but it kind of reminded him of his past life. The life before the Soldier. But instead of short electronic nuggets, they were handwritten on scraps of paper and passed behind a teacher’s back. He decided he liked it. 

_ Pretty sure coffee is free. _ Her message was quick. Funny, he couldn’t hear her moving around next door, yet she was clearly awake. He shrugged at her answer, then remembered she couldn’t see it. That was one problem with texting: he had to use actual words, he couldn’t just rely on her interpreting his vague physical responses. 

_ Still. _ That was the best reply he could come up with. Mika didn’t respond right away, so he took that to mean the conversation was over. That was fine, he hadn’t exactly left it open anyway. He was working on that. 

He went about his day, taking his time rereading his memories and cooking his lunch. He found a new yoga video on the application called YouTube, and though he didn’t care much for the voice of the girl leading it, it was still good to get some exercise. He was getting antsy without work. When the summer sun passed into the late afternoon hours, he donned his baseball cap and his lightest work shirt and made his way back down the street to the pub. Foot traffic was minimal since it was a Sunday, so his trip was quiet and easy. The windows of the pub were dark when he arrived, and for a moment he was worried that it was closed. But the door swung open easily when he pulled on the handle, the chime above ringing through the empty room. No one, not even Hans, was present in the main area. He could hear movement behind the door labelled  _ Staff Only _ , which instantly put him on high alert. His muscles tensed as footsteps moved towards the only barrier between him and the stranger, the fingers of his metal arm curling and uncurling. 

“Sorry, we’re actually closed - oh, uh, hi Bucky.” Hans said after pulling open the door. Bucky tried to make himself relax; he didn’t want to scare the bartender. Behind him, the sound of food cooking echoed through the empty pub. He tried not to make a face as the smell hit him. He knew Hans was known for making good drinks, but it seemed his talents did not extend to cooking.

“Apologies, I can come back later.” he said, taking one step back towards the front entrance. Hans waved him off.

“No, no worries. I forgot to lock the door after me. Been a crazy day - Agatha, my cook, she called in sick which she has  _ never _ done, so I’m attempting to cook anything for tonight.” he rambled, wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist. He cleared his throat, shaking his head as if coming back to himself and continuing before Bucky could respond. “Anyway, how can I help you?” 

Bucky pulled a few lei from his pocket. “I left rather suddenly last night. Forgot to settle my tab.” he said, holding the bills up. Hans cocked his head to the side, as if confused.

“Coffee is free.” he said. Ah, so Mika was right. Good to know. He was going to respond, but was distracted by the smell from the kitchen. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from wrinkling his nose. 

“I think your food is burning.” he said instead. Hans looked vaguely perplexed for a moment before the alarm set in, his eyes going wide as the scent reached him as well.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, bolting back into the kitchen. Pots and pans rattled around, as if they were being pushed from the burners. More swearing came from the back room, muffled by the door as it slowly swung closed. This was a way out, Bucky knew. Hans was obviously busy. And the pub was closed. He should go. He should put the lei on the counter and leave. But he could still hear the vocalized frustrations from behind the closed door. He could leave. Or, he could stay and provide support. 

He didn’t think too hard about the decision. He knew which option he was going to take - the one he’d been forcing himself to take for almost a year. He dropped the cash on the counter before going to the back door and pushing it open. A mixture of steam and smoke danced around the ceiling as Hans hurriedly tried to salvage anything he could. Bucky could taste the fire on the back of his tongue; yep, he had royally burned it. The man had stopped yelling his obscenities and was instead muttering them under his breath, trying to scrape charred remnants from the bottom of a pan. Steam billowed around him as he rinsed the hot skillet in the sink. He should stop that, else he might warp the metal.

“Need some help?” Bucky asked, and Hans jumped at the sound of his voice. The pan clattered loudly to the bottom of the sink as he clutched his heart. He took a deep breath and laughed humorlessly before responding.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to cook?” he asked, his tone implying that he was not serious in his inquiry. Bucky shrugged.

“I do.” he responded. Hans stared at him for a long minute, and Bucky stared back. He felt uncomfortable, but not near to the degree he usually did when people looked right at him. He could almost see the wheels turning as the man thought.

“You’re serious?” he said finally, his brows furrowed and the pan in the sink long forgotten. Bucky nodded.

“Most of the time, yes.” he replied. He had his moments of being less-serious, but didn’t want to give Hans the wrong impression. Besides, he really did want to help; part of him was hoping he could get paid. Rent would be due soon, and there was no telling if or when the warehouse would reopen. Hans hesitated again, but not for as long this time.

“Brilliant. What are you doing right now? Mika mentioned once you worked nights. But if you’re not working tonight, I would be happy to employ you on the short term. Actually, you’d kind of be saving my life.” he said, letting out a long sigh of relief. He turned back to the sink, staring at the pan before deciding that it was a hopeless cause. He moved the other crispy pan away from the stove as well.

“I’m...between jobs at the moment. What’s on the menu tonight?” Bucky asked. He was suddenly a little nervous. What if he was asked to make something that he didn’t know the recipe for? He palmed his pocket for a moment, making sure his phone was still there. He’d learned about  _ Google _ a couple days ago, that was a big game changer. He didn’t realize people had such a wealth of information right at their fingertips. That also made him nervous - how easy was it to access the data dump from SHIELD’s downfall? He blinked the thoughts away. Now was not the time to worry about such things.

Hans looked confused at his question. “Um...I don’t know. We’ve always just served whatever Agatha felt like cooking. I don’t think we even have menus.” he looked around the kitchen at that point, as if these imaginary menus would magically appear. He gave up after this minimal search, throwing his hands up in a noncommittal gesture. “So I guess cook whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Bucky repeated, making sure he understood him correctly. He’d never had freedom like that from a job. This was such an odd situation, and the alarms were definitely ringing in the back of his mind, but they weren’t as loud as they were in the past. He knew it was weird, but he didn’t want to think too hard as to why. 

“Whatever you want.” he reiterated. They stood awkwardly as Bucky took in everything in the kitchen - the piles of pots and pans, the utensils crammed into cylindrical holders. The shelves were stacked with more ingredients than he knew what to do with, and he had a feeling the refrigerator would be the same way. This would definitely exercise more than one part of his brain. Hans took a step toward the staff door. “Okay, I have to go get ready up front. Will you be okay in here?”

“Yes, I believe so.” Bucky said with a decisive nod. This was different than he was used to, but he could handle it. It would be just like cooking for himself. Only he’d be cooking enough for a week, or maybe a month, instead of just one meal. 

“Excellent. Doors open at five, it’s our slowest night, but I’d still expect about forty people or so, uh, but we stop serving at eight instead of ten so it’ll just be for a couple hours, and like I said I’ll pay you, definitely, um...yea.” he finished lamely. Like Mika, he rambled when he was nervous. But he didn’t seem nervous because he was afraid of Bucky, which was a positive. But he didn’t seem nervous in the way Mika did either. Bucky didn’t understand it, but decided not to look too far into it. He had enough he needed to focus on for the next few hours. Hans took another step towards the door, but paused and turned back to him. “Thank you, for this. I seriously don’t know what I’d do if...anyway, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” he replied. He was already calculating cooking times in his head. The hours were triggering something in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t get the full thought to materialize. Hans gave him a quick smile before pushing through the door back to the main floor. The door swung closed, and Bucky was left on his own. The reality of this decision then settled on him, and he could feel his pulse elevating. This was, by far, the most impulsive thing he’d done since...he couldn’t remember when. He took a steadying breath. This wasn’t the worst situation. There was a back exit, a window to the front entrance, and multiple weapons within reach. The door could easily be barricaded if the need arose. He could manage this. 

He set his shoulders and nodded to himself, pushing past the alarms in his mind and pulling his glove from his left hand. He tucked it neatly into his back pocket before forcing his arms to grab pots and pans. He stood in front of the pantry shelves, taking stock of the inventory and running through the recipes in his head. He wished he had his journal with him, with all his favorite ones written down. He would just have to go off instinct. He felt his mind ramp into overdrive, the different ingredients and amounts scrambling themselves and then sorting out in his brain. This wasn’t the manual labor he was used to, more mental. It would be a challenge.

He smirked to himself, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt before piling ingredients into his arms. He liked challenges. 

An hour later, the bell above the front door jingled and Hans came back in with the first request for food. The burn smell no longer lingered; instead the kitchen held the pleasant aroma of herbs and spices and meat. He took in the sight of all the dishes on the stove, his jaw dropping in awe and appreciation. Bucky felt nervous in a way he hadn’t in a long time - not for recognition, or ambush, or compromise. No, he was hoping the Hans approved of the selection, approved of his skill. He stood to the side, watching as he appraised the selection in front of him. He realized a moment too late that his sleeve was still rolled up, exposing his prosthetic. He casually placed it behind his back, though likely the damage was made. He hoped to whatever deity was listening that he would be like Mika, simply accepting it as medical science. As long as no one saw the star on his shoulder, he should be safe.

“Bucky, you are a  _ dream _ .” he said, affectionately clapping him on the shoulder. Bucky was slightly startled by the contact, standing still until he let go. Hans seemed to sense his nerves, stepping back to give him some space. He stared at the stove with his hands on his hips and a grin on his face. “Are any of these ready to plate?”

“Yes, all of them.” he replied, reaching for the plates from another shelf. He helped serve three of them, watching as Hans expertly arranged them on his arms to carry. Without any hesitation, he started towards the door. Bucky interrupted his process. “You aren’t going to taste them?”

“No, I trust you.” he replied, as if Bucky were silly for thinking otherwise. He exited the kitchen once again, leaving Bucky to continue his work. Strange, he thought, how easily Hans trusted him. And even stranger, he didn’t seem to notice the metal arm. At least, he chose not to comment on it. The bell from the front chimed again, breaking his stream of thoughts. More people were here. And those people would need food. He moved his focus from the logistics of the pub back to the setup on the stove, increasing the tempo of his chopping and mixing as the bell up front continued to periodically alert him to customer after customer. 

The rush slowed as the clock above the oven ticked closer to eight. Bucky found himself feeling hot, and tired, but very much accomplished. There was still food for roughly five or six people simmering on the stove top, and he hoped it would hold out. He leaned against the back counter, taking in the lull before the memory he couldn’t make out earlier sparked back into existence. He was supposed to be at Mika’s at eight o’clock tonight. They were supposed to start  _ Lord of the Rings _ . 

For the first time, he was truly appreciative for the phone in his pocket. He pulled it out, opening the text to his one contact and carefully keying his message.  _ Running late. Helping your friend out.  _ He pressed send, then realized he hadn’t finished his thought. So that’s why Mika always sent multiple messages.  _ Will bring food. _

The bell jingled one last time, and Bucky glanced through the window to see one person settle at a table. Good, so unless he was making a massive order for take out, the food he’d prepared would suffice. Sure enough, Hans poked through the door once more, asking for just one more plate. Bucky felt a sense of accomplishment as he handed over the meal, the clock moving past eight. He made it through, with no issues in sight. After Hans left, he took four to-go boxes from the pile, carefully packaging them and stacking them on the counter before tackling the pile of dishes in the sink. His phone sounded from his pocket (he still kept forgetting to ask how to change that), but he focused on finishing his work. It was nearly half-past when the last of it was put away, and Bucky washed his hands and wiped the counter. He wanted to leave the kitchen as spotless as he found it. He rolled his sleeves back down and slipped his glove on, and was just about to go out the back entrance when Hans came back in.

“You are a serious lifesaver - are those leftovers?” He was distracted by the to-go containers. Bucky hesitated, trying to figure out the correct answer based on his physical cues. But the man gave no tell, so he decided the truth would have to do.

“Yes. There was minimal extras, I thought I could take some home. Two are for you as well.” he said. It was the whole truth; he figured since he cooked everything and Hans bought the components, they should split the excess down the middle. But the look on his face seemed confused, or upset. “I’m sorry, was I supposed to throw them out?”

“What? No, no, that’d be a waste.” he replied, shaking his head. He laid out the containers, eyeing the contents of each. “I’ve just never had a cook pack up extras for me before. And clean the kitchen.”

Did that mean there usually were not leftovers? Bucky cursed himself inwardly. He’d miscalculated. But how could he calculate correctly? This wasn’t like the manual labor at the warehouse, where the numbers in the containers needed to match the numbers in the storage. No, there were many more variables at play here. It was exhausting. “I’m sorry, I didn’t estimate accurately.” he stated, trying to keep professional in his manner. He was getting used to socializing again - the past two weeks without his colleagues had slipped him back into his brief, cordial self. Hans waved him off.

“Please, are you kidding? You were absolutely  _ clutch _ tonight. You shouldn’t be apologizing. I-I should be apologizing.” Hans rambled. He grimaced for a moment, though Bucky didn’t understand why. Had he somehow wronged him? Bucky took a quick glance around, but nothing seemed amiss. Were authorities on the way there?

“Why do you need to apologize?” he asked lowly. His muscles tensed. He did not want to fight, but he would if he had to. But Hans shook his head again.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you had to be perfect. You were really nice and helped me out when you didn’t have to, and I am like, super grateful for it. I didn’t mean to...I don’t know. I’m out of words.” he was flustered, clearly. Bucky almost felt bad for him, but was too busy trying to calm his racing heart to fully sympathize. Hans rubbed his eyes for a second before facing him again. He pushed two of the containers toward him, and placed an envelope on top. “Thank you, for your help. I owe you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Bucky said, collecting the containers and the envelope. Truth be told, he was happy to work again, even for just a few hours. He was going crazy, being left alone with his thoughts every night. “I’m glad to help.”

“Speaking of that,” Hans wrung his hands, nervous about whatever he was about to ask. He was a very nervous man, this one. He cleared his throat, trying to find his words. “Agatha texted. Turns out she’s the kind of sick that doesn’t end well, and she’s rightly off to travel the world for a while. Would you...could you maybe fill in? I know this probably isn’t the ideal job, but it’ll just be for the short term. Until I find someone permanent. I’ll pay you, I swear.”

Bucky was stunned for a moment. Hans was offering him a job? It was temporary, but it was still a job. He took in the fatigue in his body, and his mind. He was actually going to be able to sleep tonight, thanks to this. Of course he would agree. “I can definitely do that.”

“Oh my God, thank you. You are literally the best. Gah, I could kiss you.” Hans said. Turns out he was easily excitable, as well as nervous. Bucky raised an eyebrow at his statement. A kiss would be highly unnecessary. And borderline unwelcome. Hans closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to hid from his chagrin. He continued, changing the subject. “Anyway, I’ve got to head back out there. I’ll see you around, tell Mika hello for me.” he said, backing up and going back into the main room with a wave. What an odd fellow. Bucky liked him. He took one last glance around the pub before slipping out the back door, carrying his food and his cash and walking back home. It wasn’t as late as it normally was for his return trips, but he felt just as tired. Turns out mental work might be more exhausting than physical work. 

It was nearing nine o’clock when he finally made it to the top floor of the building, and he was worried it was too late for Mika. He hesitated outside her door for just a breath before knocking. He was getting better at that. Mika’s muffled footsteps sounded from behind the door, announcing her presence before she flung it open dramatically.

“Finally! I’m this close to starving to death.” she whined, taking his hand and pulling him into the apartment. The affection still felt new, but it wasn’t undesired. She bypassed her kitchen table and led him straight to the couch.

“Hardly.” he replied, making her turn around and glare with her eyes narrowed. He felt the corners of his mouth try and quirk up, and dutifully kept them down.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes. Always such a drama queen. She tried her best to maintain her offended facade, but it was quickly and obviously breaking.

“Would I bring you food if I thought you were fat?” he asked, holding up the container. Her expression gave way to her excitement, and she held her hands out to make grabbing motions at it. 

“No, because you’re the best.” she said, reaching for the box. He moved it just out of reach, making her happy face go back to the offended glare. This time he couldn’t stop the smirk. She reached out quicker, and this time he let her grab it. She gave him a satisfied grin as she curled up on the couch with her prize. He chuckled lowly, putting his own food on the coffee table and going into her kitchen.

“I assume you’d like a fork?” he asked, pulling her drawer open and grabbing two utensils before she could answer.

“Thank you!” she sang, accepting it from him as he joined her on the couch. She popped open the tin and took a bite, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh my God, this is amazing. This is from the pub?” 

“Yes.” Bucky said, and was content to leave it at that. No need to share any more information. Mika eyed his container as he opened it, spotting the different dish.

“Wait, what do you have there?” she asked, moving a little closer to see his food. He perked an eyebrow, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Her chin was practically resting on his shoulder, but he didn’t move away. 

“My supper.” he said shortly. She tilted her head to the side, a challenge in her gaze. She stretched out with her fork, but he moved the container just out of reach. Her expression intensified, and she made another attempt at his food, but once again her fork only found air. She let out a frustrated noise, making him laugh lowly. “Use your words.”

She cleared her throat, putting on an air of propriety. “Bucky, may I  _ please _ try your supper?”

“No.” he said instantly, taking a bite of his food. Her jaw dropped, and she changed her grip on her fork so she was brandishing it like a sword.

“Don’t make me use my bird powers on you.” she threatened, giving him a pointed look. Sure, a metal fork in the hands of a Red Room assassin might scare him, but with Mika it was just comical. He snatched the fork from her grip, surprising her. To make a point, he used it to take his next bite.

“You can’t defeat my bear strength.” he said, scolding her with her own utensil. She groaned, sending her eyes heavenward before looking back at him.

“Bucky, please.” she whined childishly, the noise grating on his sensitive ears. He grimaced, holding the fork out to her in defeat.

“As long as you swear never to make that sound again.” he said shortly, and she nodded in agreement before taking her fork back. He sighed as he held his container closer, allowing her to take a bite from it. She gave a satisfied hum, settling back against the cushions of the couch and returning to her own plate.

“This doesn’t taste like anything Agatha’s made before. Did Hans find a new cook or something? Were you taste testing this whole time without me?” she remarked, taking another bite of her own meal and making a borderline inappropriate noise at the taste. He felt an odd sense of pride, his chest warm behind his sternum at the fact that she thought his cooking tasted good. Well, there was no hiding it now. He couldn’t lie to her when she asked such a direct question.

“No, I wouldn’t dare.” he replied, hoping she would leave his explanation at that. But of course she stared at him with those brown doe eyes, her expression expectant as she waited for him to continue. She didn’t look away from him as she carefully brought another forkful of food to her mouth. He cleared his throat and looked down before saying, “Actually, I made it.” He kept his gaze on his food instead of her.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “Bucky, this is amazing!” 

“Thank you.” he said. The back of his neck felt warm, and he had to stop himself from rubbing it nervously with his hand. She hummed a happy little jingle, digging further into her food. 

“Can this be our new movie night tradition? Cause seriously, this is really good. I’ll buy the stuff and everything if you cook it.” she said, gesturing at her plate with her fork. 

“I’ll think about it.” he replied. He didn’t want to promise anything; it was easier to agree to pizza. But perhaps he could take it into consideration. “Speaking of, are you ever going to start this movie night?”

“Oh, right! But I wanna hear all about your night afterwards.” she said, uncurling and sadly putting her fork down for a moment to turn on the television and pull up the movie. It was quite a bit later than they usually started, but it shouldn’t matter. He stayed up most of the night almost every night. This one should be no different, although he was remarkably more fatigued than usual.  _ Fellowship of the Ring _ was a little difficult for him to follow at times, but it was quite epic compared to most of the movies they watched. He rather liked the action and adventure when there were no guns or looming threats of torture in the background. 

An hour into the movie, Mika was very still, curled up next to him on the couch. She was sitting a little closer than usual, but not too close that he felt crowded. She was easing into this “affection” thing with him, and he appreciated it. He found he still didn’t mind it. Sometime around the Council of Elrond, he glanced over to find that she was fast asleep, her head precariously perched on the back cushion. He looked back at the television, then back to her; was it him, or was her head a little more off the edge? Another peek at the movie, then back to her. Yes, she was definitely slowly falling off. Should he wake her up? That could make her head fall off the cushion as well. But if he did nothing, then her head would  _ certainly _ fall off the cushion  _ and _ wake her up. She was visibly slipping now, and at the last moment he made his decision, putting his hand up and catching her face softly. 

Well now he’d really done it. What was he supposed to do, sit here with her head in his hand until she woke up? Wake her up himself? He really wanted to watch the movie. Frodo was going to take the ring to Mordor, shit was probably about to hit the fan. Mika was now leaning rather heavily into his hand. She was a deep sleeper, that was for sure. He looked from the screen to his situation, trying to take in both at the same time. With a sigh, he scooted closer to her, lowering her until her head was resting on his leg. Somehow, she managed to stay asleep the whole time, adjusting her position slightly and heaving a content sigh as she slumbered. There, problem solved. Sure, this was a pretty intense form of physical contact (to him), but he knew there was a ninety-two percent chance that Mika would not be bothered by it. She stayed blissfully unaware of the move, and he was able to settle into the comfortable cushions and watch the film. He lowered the volume so as to not wake her, the plush cushions surrounding him. He was very comfortable, and very tired. After the movie ended, he would head straight to bed. 

Mika didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she was waking up. She didn’t want to wake up. She was tired, and she was very comfortable, and her pillow was nice and warm.

Wait a minute. 

She opened her eyes to find herself in her dimly lit living room. Not an unusual view; she’d fallen asleep on her couch many times before. What was unusual was the sight of - was that a leg that she was resting on? In front of the leg, the television proudly displayed the home screen, meaning the movie finished. Wow, so she’d been asleep at least a couple of hours. Her pillow (the leg) twitched a little, waking her up further. She pushed herself up, turning to see Bucky still sitting on her couch, head resting on his metal hand. He was fast asleep, mumbling quietly. It was too low for her to make out exactly what he was saying, but she thought he was speaking in English. After a moment he sighed deeply, and his face relaxed. He looked much younger then. She’d always assumed he was in his mid-thirties, but here he looked closer to her age. Not that she would be under thirty for much longer. She stretched before reaching for one of her blankets, carefully pulling it over his lap. She thought she was being sneaky, but as she was covering him his eyes snapped open, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. His breaths were quick and nervous as his eyes scanned around him.

“It’s okay, it’s me.” she said softly, sleep still thick in her throat. His breathing slowed as he focused on her, his hand releasing her wrist. He was blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision.

“I’m sorry.” he said. His voice was much deeper than usual; it seemed he had been deep asleep as well. She waved him off before he could apologize any further.

“You’re fine. I think I fell asleep on you.” she replied. He looked like he was about to jump up and run, but was holding himself back. She hoped he didn’t feel bad for spending the night, because it really wasn’t a big deal. Plenty of male friends had crashed on her couch before, and she was even comfortable with a few of them sharing her bed. But Bucky looked decidedly uncomfortable, as he did with most new situations. 

“What time is it?” he asked, clearing his throat. The gesture didn’t help, his voice was still extra gravelly. Mika grabbed her phone from the table, pressing the home button so the screen lit up. She had a couple messages from Elena and one from Hans, but she was more concerned with the large numbers at the top.

“Nearly six. Want some coffee?” she asked, unfolding herself from the couch and walking over to the kitchen. She watched from the coffee maker as he stood up, taking one step toward the door before spotting the food containers from last night. He picked them up and carefully deposited them in the trash can. She smiled; little things like that were happening more often.

“No, thank you, I don’t want to intrude any longer.” he replied, adjusting his baseball cap. She laughed, pulling out the floral mug that she always gave him. 

“You’re not intruding. You still need to tell me about your adventure cooking at the pub last night. Come on, it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.” she pointed out as the coffee maker filled the cup. She smiled at her little joke, and even Bucky couldn’t stop a grin from ghosting across his face.

“I suppose it is.” he said, sitting down at the barstool and gratefully accepting the cup from her. She put some bread in the toaster and pulled out her condiments, sliding them onto the island. Bucky held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare.

“It’s breakfast, Bucky. You brought supper, it’s the least I can do.” she said, fixing her own cup of coffee.

“I intruded on your night, I believe it’s I who owes you something.” he replied, making her roll her eyes. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before handing it to him. 

“You’re entirely too polite for your own good, you know that?” she said, adding more bread to the toaster. He chuckled, once again looking like he was laughing at a joke that didn’t include her. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been told that.” he answered, finally giving in a smearing butter over his toast. This time, he got a little more adventurous, putting some plum jam as well. Mika smiled, waiting for her own breakfast before coming and sitting on the kitchen island next to him.

“So. Tell me about your night.” she said. She was genuinely curious. Of all the things she could see Bucky doing,  _ pub cook _ was not at the top of her list. But it was clear he’d been getting a lot of practice next door, and he was very, very good at it.

“I think I have a new job.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee before telling the story. He wasn’t nervous anymore from earlier, now he was at ease. Every day he was a little more at ease whenever they hung out. She felt a rush for affection for him as he smiled during his story, for once not seeming shy about his words. She quickly checked her phone after he finished, opening the message from Hans. She figured it might provide more insight to the story. She had to stop herself from laughing, knowing that it would likely make Bucky uncomfortable.

_ I’m in love with your neighbor and you should be too. _


	19. Birthday Shenanigans

Today was going to be a good day, Mika decided.

First of all, it was Friday, which was by definition a good day. Second, she had the day off from work, which was also by definition a good day. And finally, it happened to be her birthday. Mika  _ loved _ birthdays, whether they were hers or not. But, if she was honest, hers was her favorite. She slept in late, later than she had since...probably a year ago. The sun was shining, the warm summer breeze was spilling through her windows, and she had absolutely nothing to do before a little get-together at the pub tonight. 

Her stomach grumbled as her coffee maker drizzled out her morning brew. She’d definitely missed the breakfast times, and now even the brunch hour was teetering towards lunch. She hummed along to the song playing through her speakers, sipping her coffee and checking her phone for the hours of operation at the new bistro a few blocks over. That would make a fine birthday lunch. She planned to go on her own since most of her friends would be out with her that night, but as she passed by Bucky’s door she thought it might not be so bad to have some company. Before she could think too hard about it, she stepped over and knocked on his door, hoping that he was at home. She expected he would be, since he usually didn’t leave for the pub until three or four in the afternoon. What she was not expecting was for him to be shirtless upon answering the door. She was vaguely aware that he was waiting for her to say something, but she was understandably distracted by the muscles of his torso gleaming in the low light of the hallway. Sure, she’d seen him shirtless once before, but that was when he was broken and bleeding on her couch. This was different. It took her a moment before she brought her eyes up to his, shaking her head a little bit to clear the fog from her brain.

“Yes?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. He still hid most of his metal arm behind the door, but instead of appearing nervous and secretive, he was leaning almost casually against the door frame. Mika cleared her throat, trying to grasp any shred of dignity she had left after so blatantly checking out her friend. But her brain was still short-circuiting a little.

“What were you doing?” she asked, then immediately regretted. Perhaps she didn’t  _ want _ to know what he was doing beforehand. He perked an eyebrow, and she readied herself for whatever saucy response he came up with, but his answer was quite simple.

“Yoga.” he replied, as if the answer were obvious. Of course he was. He let her suffer in silence for an extended period before his face faded to his serious look and he asked, “Did you need something?”

“Honestly, you’ve surprised me and now I’ve quite forgotten.” she said candidly, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking away from him so hopefully he couldn’t see the blush creeping into her cheeks. He chuckled lowly, but didn’t pressure her. The pit of her stomach ached from her embarrassment. Wait, no. That was from hunger. “Right! I’m going to lunch. Come with me before your shift?”

He blinked at her a couple times, making the face that she often equated with solving math problems. “Sure,” he said after careful consideration. “Let me just clean up a bit.”

“You do look a mess.” she still tried to recover, making him roll his eyes before ducking back into his apartment with the promise to be back in a few minutes. She sat on the top stair and scrolled through the news on her phone while she waited, barely making it through the top stories before he was back out the door, this time showered and fully dressed. 

“Shall we?” he asked. He still had a vaguely amused look on his face, which annoyed her. She chose to ignore it - after all, today was her day. And it was going to be a good day.

“We shall.” she replied with an air of finality, standing up and starting down the stairs. He stuffed his hands into his pocket and ducked his head down, dutifully following her out onto the street. It was a bit warmer than expected outside, but her light summer dress kept her cool. Bucky, somehow, strode along next to her in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. She shook her head to herself before going to link their elbows together. He paused for a second and took a slight step away, making her recoil quickly. “Sorry.” she said, putting a bit more space between them. He had been surprisingly comfortable with her little affections for the past couple weeks, but perhaps there was variation from day to day. He surprised her by stepping closer to her again, holding out his other elbow.

“Nothing to apologize for. Things just don’t feel the same on this side.” he said, gesturing with his left arm. Mika could smack herself. She’d known him for almost a year, and was still making the same stupid mistakes. She crossed behind him, curling her arm around his as they continued down the street.

“Can you...do you mind if I ask what it feels like?” she asked. She had been slowly dying of curiosity since that first night he’d been in her apartment, which felt like ages ago. She couldn’t believe she had the courage to finally ask about it, though she made sure to give him the option to say  _ no _ . It was a big, scary question, but he shrugged nonchalantly.

“It feels like...when you sleep with your arm over your head, and it goes numb. I can still move it, and control it, but there’s a barrier between it and the outside world.” he explained, pulling his hand out of his pocket and turning it over, flexing the fingers a bit. Without a second thought, he tucked it back in. Mika furrowed her brows, trying to think of a proper response to his explanation.

“Does it hurt?” is what came out of her mouth. Once again, immediate regret. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut once in a while? This time he took his time answering, his brows furrowing in thought.

“No. Not really.” he responded, and for the first time in their friendship she got the distinct feeling that he was lying to her. She chose not to call him out on it. “I guess I should just be happy to have a functioning appendage.”

What an odd way to phrase things, though she chose not to comment on that either. “There you go. Look at you, being positive.” she said, nudging him slightly with her elbow. He glared from the corner of his eye, though the look conveyed more irritation than anger.

“I’m not negative. Just realistic.” he stated, and she patted his arm as if she were mollifying a child.

“Yes, yes, of course you are.” she said as they made it to their destination. Now that the weather was warm again, she couldn’t fight him on sitting outside. That was fine, she needed to work on her tan anyways. She waved through the door as he chose their table, sitting with his back against the wall of the building. At this point she was so used to the habit that she barely noticed it, sitting down in the chair across from him and crossing her legs. A waitress brought them menus and waters, saying that she’d return in a moment for their orders. Mika gazed over the selection, asking Bucky, “How’s work at the pub?”

“Good.” he replied, and he sounded genuine. “It’s very different from my job at the warehouse, but in a good way, I think. Less opportunity for injury, anyway.”

“Excellent. I like the sound of that.” she said, giving him a grin. The waitress returned, collecting their orders and menus and heading back inside. Mika opened her mouth to ask about working for Hans, but she was interrupted by Bucky’s face as he spotted something behind her. Or recognized someone, more like.

“Jones?” someone asked from over her shoulder. She turned to see a young man, probably a few years younger than her. He balanced carefully on Lofstrand crutches, his whole lower leg encased in a plaster cast. Bucky sat up straighter, clearing his throat.

“Ion.” he said, as if very surprised to see him. Mika was also very surprised. Bucky had a friend? This was an exciting moment indeed. Bucky looked to her for a moment then back to the young man. Though his movements were still minute and controlled, she could see right through him at now. She’d never seen him so flustered. “Oh, uh, this is my friend Mika. Mika, this is Ion. We used to work together at the warehouse.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mika said, giving Ion a bright smile and extending her hand for a shake. He was a little precarious on his crutches, but he managed to give her a flirty grin and take her hand.

“Nice to meet you as well. You must be the ‘friend’ that Jones always goes on about.” he said, his smile bordering on mischievous now. Mika raised her eyebrows, turning back to Bucky. He looked a little more nervous now.

“Oh, you talk about me?” she asked. She was really more surprised that he talked, rather than that he talked about her. She knew friends often came up in conversation. But was she going to let the opportunity to make fun of him pass by? Absolutely not. 

“I may have mentioned you once or twice.” he said lowly, as if Ion were divulging some dangerous secret. This, of course, was tremendously amusing to Ion and Mika. 

“He likes to act tough, but we all know better.” Ion said, fidgeting slightly to avoid putting weight on his cast. 

“Sounds about right.” Mika said, grinning fondly at her friend. Bucky continued eyeing them both, as if deciding what to do with them. He was saved from further ridicule by Ion limping forward. The grin was gone from his face, and instead he looked quite serious.

“Your shoulder healed alright?” he asked quietly, gripping the handles of his crutches in an anxious gesture. Bucky’s demeanor changed slightly as the air around them became more somber. He sat a little straighter, a little more on edge.

“Yes, it wasn’t as bad as it looked.” he replied, and she realized they were talking about the night he showed up half dead on her doorstep. Ion must have been there as well, though she wondered how he knew about Bucky’s shoulder injury. That was the least obvious one from that night, and it was obvious he hadn’t stuck around for the emergency services that likely responded. He still hadn’t divulged any information about that night besides the basics, but there were multiple news stories the following day. She’d gleaned most of her facts from those.

“I never got to say thank you. For that night. I don’t...I would have died, if it weren’t for you.” he said sincerely. Bucky’s extensive injuries suddenly made more sense. Of course he almost killed himself trying to save other people. She wasn’t even surprised.

“I’m sure you would have been okay. It’s nothing.” Bucky said, shaking his head and looking down. His cheeks were a shade of red that Mika had never seen. Ion gave a bark of a laugh that didn’t quite sound humorous. 

“What did I tell you?” he said incredulously, looking to Mika as his co-conspirator. Mika held her hands up in a  _ what can you do _ gesture. After all, she was used to this sort of thing from her friend. He turned back to Bucky. “Well, it was a big deal to me. I owe you my life.”

“No you don’t.” he replied, shaking his head. The attention was making him uncomfortable, and it was obvious. He must be really feeling it if he was willing to let it show. Mika certainly picked up on it, and Ion even seemed to sense it. He nodded, shifting again on his crutches. 

“Well, if you need anything, ever, I’ve got you.” he stated, and she could tell that he wanted to say more but was holding himself back. He pulled a pen from his pocket, awkwardly scratching his number onto a napkin. “The warehouse is closed now for good, but you can reach me there. I mean it, Jones. Anything.”

“I appreciate it.” Bucky said, still blushing furiously. Mika watched the exchange from the sidelines, keeping quiet. She knew he didn’t like the attention, didn’t like  _ thank you’s _ or compliments. And here was Ion, basically pledging a life debt. Bucky was usually very good at hiding his feelings, but here his emotions were changing so fast he couldn’t hold them back, and she couldn’t quite keep up interpreting them. Ion inched back a couple steps, the sound of his crutches on the sidewalk sounding superbly loud for some reason.

“I’ll leave you to your lunch date here. But thank you, again. Nice to meet you, Mika.” he said. Bucky nodded, ducking his head down to hide his face behind the bill of his baseball cap. With that, the young man moved away, swinging down the sidewalk with his crutches. Bucky was silent for a long moment, and Mika was almost afraid to break it. But the quiet was making her uncomfortable, and she couldn’t handle it for long.

“Ion seems nice.” she said. She thought to make a comment about him having other friends, but held her tongue for once. He still seemed very nervous or self-conscious, she couldn’t tell which exactly.

“He is. He can be a little shit sometimes.” he said, giving a humorless laugh. “He didn’t need to say all that. He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“You know, you can let people be nice to you. Especially after you save their life.” she pointed out. He blinked a few times, looking at her as if the thought never occurred to him. He was saved from responding immediately by the waitress bringing out their food, both of them attempting to give her polite smiles in return. Mika looked at him, waiting for his response, but he was off in whatever part of his mind he went to to process things. For the thousandth time, she wondered what he’d been through that made him act the way he did. She felt a surge of affection toward him, and though she wanted to pry further, she decided to let it go. They ate in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat, returning to her plane of existence. 

“Are you off from work today? You’re normally not out for lunch this early.” he asked. She deflated a little bit, trying not to be too disappointed that he didn’t want to talk further. After all, he’d already shared a little piece of himself earlier - she shouldn’t be too greedy. It didn’t change the fact that curiosity was still burning through her, but it helped dull the fire. Another day, she told herself.

“I actually have today off.” she replied, looking down at her food. She didn’t want to spring her birthday on Bucky, knowing that he would probably feel some sort of way for not being prepared for it. Especially after the recent interaction with Ion. His brows furrowed in thought.

“Did I miss another holiday?” he asked, making her laugh. Typical. She shook her head, unable to stop her smile. Well, she might as well just tell him and get it over with. Actually, if she played her cards just right, she might be able to convince him to go out that night, or at least give it another try.

“No, you’re good there.” she said. “But, I am meeting a few friends at the pub tonight and I would really like if you joined us after your shift.”

“I don’t know.” he said immediately. It had been a couple weeks since his last valiant attempt, and while he often said hello and had a cup of coffee with her after he finished in the kitchen, he had yet to stay past that again. He gave her an odd look, trying to connect the dots. “Are you celebrating something?”

“Well, it does happen to be my birthday.” she said, giving him an awkward smile. He stopped chewing, giving her an annoyed look. 

“You’re kidding.” he said, actually talking with his mouth full for a moment before remembering to swallow. Her posture grew more awkward.

“I’m not.” she replied, eyeing the subtle emotions as they passed over his face. The one he settled on was vague concern, though she didn’t know why he would be worried.

“I haven’t got a present for you.” he said, and he seemed genuinely distressed about it. She reached across the table, gently touching his hand.

“No, no, I don’t want presents.” she said quickly. It was true. She was twenty-nine with a big girl job, if she wanted something she could just buy it for herself. “I just want to spend time with my best friends. And that includes you.”

The irked expression returned to his face, but she could see his resolve waning. She gave him her best puppy dog eyes, hoping that would do the trick. He let out a sigh, placing his fork down on his empty plate. “I’ll do my best.” he compromised, though he looked apprehensive. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. She still clapped her hands excitedly, trying to be optimistic.

“Excellent! It’ll be fun, I promise.” she said, remembering a half second too late that she’d told him the exact same thing last time, when he had obviously  _ not _ had fun. “But don’t feel bad if you want to leave early.”

His math problem was back in front of him, and he was silent in thought for a moment before saying, “I am still a little pissed you didn’t tell me earlier about your birthday.” Still no definitive yes or no. 

“It never came up. When’s your birthday, hm?” she asked pointedly, putting down her silverware and pushing her plate to the side. She rested her chin on her hand, eyeing him. He thought for a breath, as if he actually had to take a moment to remember.

“March tenth.” he said, conveniently leaving out the year. Mika immediately sat up straighter, her jaw dropping in shock.

“It was in  _ March _ ?” she exclaimed, genuinely offended. He’d just let his birthday pass by, with no celebration or fanfare? Not even a little? “Why didn’t you say anything? We completely missed it!”   


“It’ll be back around next year.” he said with a shrug, making her groan loudly and dramatically with her face tilted toward the sky. He tried to hide his amused smile at her theatrics.

“Fine. That’s fine. Now I have nine months to prepare for it.” she said with a triumphant grin. The waitress returned then, placing the check on the table and collecting their dishes. Mika was just about to ask her to split the bill, but was distracted by Bucky smoothly taking it, pulling out his wallet. He kept his eyes down, trying to be sly. But of course she could not allow that. “Whoa whoa, what’s this?”

He looked at her for a brief second before going back to counting his bills. “Not going to let you pay for your lunch on your birthday.” he said pointedly, tucking the lei into the leather pocket and placing it at the edge of the table.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do that.” she said, going to pull her own wallet from her purse. He halted her actions with a look.

“Well you didn’t give me enough warning to find you a present, so this will have to do.” he replied, giving the waitress a polite smile as she came to collect. 

“You didn’t even tell me when it was your birthday.” she exclaimed. She held up a finger, telling him to wait and pulling her phone out. A few quick scrolls in the calendar application confirmed her suspicions. “And it was on a Sunday! We definitely hung out that day. And you said  _ nothing _ . We didn’t do anything special!” she was genuinely a little outraged by this. However, like with most things, he seemed unconcerned. 

“Watched a movie and had pizza. Seems like a pretty good day to me.” he said. He was carefully keeping a neutral face, but she could see the glint in his eye. He was enjoying her suffering. On her  _ birthday _ . Jackass.

“Whatever. This doesn’t count as my present then.” she said, deciding to go a different route. His eyes narrowed; he could tell she was planning something. 

“What does count?” he asked lowly, as if he had an inkling of where she was taking this. She grinned devilishly, knowing that he wasn’t going to like her answer.

“Please hang out at the pub tonight.” she said, reaching across the table to grasp his hand. She gave her best doe eyed look, hoping that would be enough to sway him. He stared at her for a long while, hoping to outlast her in this staring contest. But she had magic birthday powers that enabled her to withstand his gaze, and soon he broke with a sigh. 

“Don’t know why I think I can say no.” he grumbled, and Mika pulled back with a cheer. His face showed that he regretted this tentative agreement, but she knew he’d stand by it. At least, he’d give it a good try.

“I know, my face is irresistable.” she said, standing up and pulling at his hand until he was standing as well. She tucked her hand into his elbow, relishing in her victory as they walked back to the apartment. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and clamped it shut again. “What?” she teased.

“Nothing.” he replied airily. She pinched the skin of his bicep, making him flinch and give her an annoyed look. “What? Can’t very well say you’re full of shit on your birthday.” he said passively, the corners of his mouth moving ever so slightly as he tried to hold back a smile. 

“That’s right, you sure can’t.” she said, pinching him again just for good measure. He sent a glare her way, but didn’t say anything further. She gave him a cocky smile, basking in the protection that the day gave her. It was an easy walk back to the apartments, and when they parted ways at their doors, Mika made sure to look him in the eye and ask, “See you later, right?”

“Right.” he agreed, though he made sure to sigh dramatically for good measure. Her toothy grin was way too satisfied, he decided, shaking his head and ducking into his apartment. He’d have to hurry if he wanted to get to work on time to make stew tonight, which would take a few extra hours. He thought about changing his menu for Mika’s birthday, but didn’t know what he would make for her instead. She ate most everything, and had never voiced a favorite food. The most consistent things he’d seen her eat were pizza and chocolate. No, she wouldn’t be concerned about her supper. 

He didn’t know why he felt so miffed that she hadn’t told him about her birthday. After all, he’d passed his own by without a thought. Until Mika asked him about it today, he completely forgot about it, just as he did Christmas and New Year’s and every other holiday he’d grown up celebrating. He didn’t need celebrations of surviving another year. He was supposed to be dead a long time ago. But Mika? Mika was young, and lively, and deserved to experience all the joys life had to offer. All she’d asked him for was to spend time with her that night, which was, by and far, a simple request. 

He considered this as he chopped up vegetables and herbs for the food that evening. Usually, he finished his shift at ten, and either paused for a cup of coffee with Mika before leaving or left straight for his nightly perimeter rounding. But he could alter his plans; it’s not like he required much time for sleeping. Working the nights in the kitchen helped him acclimate to the loud nature of the pub, as well as gather intel on the regulars. It was a relatively predictable bunch, with outliers here and there. The weekends were always busier than the weeknights, so he probably wouldn’t be able to stay very late. But he would stay longer than prior. 

He listened as the pub doors opened, as the Friday night crowd started trickling in. He kept track of the rising volume as Hans popped in and out of the kitchen, serving up plates and talking to himself as Bucky did his work. He could tell when Mika came in, as her friends greeted her with loud cheers and immediately started singing a birthday song. He couldn’t help but smile, humming along to the familiar tune as he worked. It took him a minute to realize he was singing along in English instead of Romanian - an old habit from previous life. 

The minutes ticked by, and soon enough the kitchen was closed and Bucky was running out of excuses to avoid socializing. He took his time putting away his utensils and washing the dishes, and made sure the last few plates for him and Hans were perfectly packed and organized. He stood and admired the clean workstation for a long minute before accepting that it was time for him to be a person. He hung up his apron and poured himself a cup of coffee, dimming the lights before finally going out onto the main floor. 

He’d assumed earlier that Mika would just be meeting a few friends, and maybe that’s originally what she’d intended. But now, it was a full on party. Hans was frantically making and pouring drinks, keeping up with the flow of patrons passing the bar. He thought to go and help him (though his mixed drink knowledge was probably subpar), but was interrupted by a brunette curtain with a floral scent descending over his eyes. He caught Mika around the waist as she jumped on him, once again pushing down his reaction to throw her across the room. She normally knew better than to surprise him like that, but it was clear as he put her down that she’d had just enough alcohol to forget this fact. 

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, and even though it was her birthday he couldn’t resist messing with her a little bit.

“I work here.” he deadpanned, though he couldn’t hold back the grin trying to escape. She rolled her eyes in a grand gesture before dissolving into giggles. Yep, she was solidly past tipsy. 

“Well  _ duh _ you work here. But I thought you were going to sneak out the back whenever you were done with your shift because you’re a sourpuss.” she said, poking him in his chest. He lowered his brows enough to feign hurt at her comment.

“I’m not a sourpuss.” he said, keeping up with his injured expression. Mika had her lips pressed together and her eyes wide, trying to hold together her weak and crumbling poker face. It didn’t work, and soon she was laughing at him again.

“You’re a little bit of a sourpuss, but you’re my sourpuss and I wouldn’t have you any other way.” she said, affectionately patting his cheeks before grabbing his hand. “Come on, the gang’s all here.” 

He could see her usual group of friends in the corner, all looking a little more drunk than they usually did on a Friday night. He supposed they were celebrating more than just the end of the work week, and had a few more friends with them. Multiple people told Mika “happy birthday” as they walked by, and seemed very genuine with it. “Who are the rest of these people?” he asked, eyeing each of these strangers as they passed. She shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think they just got excited cause someone has a birthday.” she explained, sliding into the booth. The group gave him almost as warm of a welcome as they usually gave Mika, which startled him. Nicolae immediately engaged him in conversation when he sat down, and Elena offered him a sip of her drink when he gave it a curious look. It seemed that he now had more friends. He settled into the corner, happy to just converse casually and keep an eye out for the other people in the pub. There was a couple in the corner he didn’t recognize, but they seemed nonthreatening. He’d keep an eye on them just in case. He didn’t feel as claustrophobic this time, though the movements of the people still made him uneasy. As long as they stayed here, in their nice little corner, he could make it. 

Soon Mika’s glass was empty, which was not allowed on a birthday, even back in the forties. “Next round is on me.” he said, taking the opportunity to get up and take a quick round of the bar.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mika said, stumbling out of the booth after him. “I know this is an odd request, but I need two drinks.”

He perked an eyebrow. “Why two?” he asked lowly. He did not want to be buying drinks for everyone, it wasn’t their birthday. Mika gave him a pained smile.

“Because I’ve already had three and usually around four is where I accidentally end up in someone’s bed that I don’t belong in and that is not our objective for tonight so-” she rambled her explanation, using her hands to aid in his visualization. He cut her off before she could really get going.

“Drinks four and five. Gotcha.” he said, shaking his head and laughing. She pressed her hands to his cheeks again, moving her face close to his. He stood very still. He’d not have someone’s face that close to his in a long time. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, and count the freckles on her nose. 

“You’re a saint.” she said, pulling away and sitting back down at the table. He let out his breath, turning and slipping through the crowd to the bar. He leaned his elbows against the sticky surface, waiting for Hans to have a moment. The stool next to him scraped across the floor as a blonde girl slid into it, resting her arm on the bar before pulling back with a look of concern. She noticed Bucky looking, and gestured at the bartop. 

“I feel like it’s not usually like this.” she said, grabbing a stray cocktail napkin and wiping her skin with it. Bucky grinned, shaking his head.

“I think Hans is having a busier night than usual.” he said, tipping his head at the bartender. Hans was working his way down the line, his hands flying between bottles and glasses. The girl smiled, crossing her legs and resting her arms on her knee instead. 

“This place does get busy, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the best sidecar in the city.” she continued. She was fiddling with her necklace, which usually would be a nervous tell, but her eyes and posture were confident.

“I’ll take your word for it.” he replied. He was used to strangers striking up conversation with him, as everyone in this city seemed to be friendly and easy going. This girl seemed a little different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. 

“Not your thing?” she asked, her head tilted to the side. Her earrings glinted in the low light of the pub. He shook his head.

“Not really.” he replied. She seemed oddly curious, but the alarm bells weren’t going off. Not yet, at least. 

“What is your poison of choice then?” she continued. He didn’t understand why she cared about his drink, but figured she was trying to pass the time until Hans made his way over to them. Bucky shrugged; he hadn’t really partaken in a lot of alcohol since his emancipation besides what Mika had given him.

“I like wine alright.” he admitted, making her perk an eyebrow. Why was that answer surprising?

“Most men wouldn’t admit that.” she said, seemingly impressed. Really? Why not? It was moments like these that Bucky wondered if men were even dumber now than they were back in his day.

“Don’t know why. Tastes good.” he said, making her laugh. She laughed easily like Mika, but again, something seemed different. 

“Confidence. I like that.” she said, still grinning. Okay? Bucky was saved from having to piece together a response by Hans making his appearance, the cool look of determination on his face as he made his decisions for their drink. He pulled out three shot glasses, filling two with tequila and the last with one of the cheaper whiskeys. Bucky furrowed his brows.

“I only need two.” he said, but Hans shook his head.

“Those two are for Mika,” he said, pointing to the tequila. He then gestured at the whiskey. “That one’s for you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” he said, surprised at the turn in events. Usually Hans just gave him coffee. But, he supposed if he was going to stick around this party for a while, a little liquid courage couldn’t hurt - even if it didn’t actually do anything to him. 

“Drink runner for your girlfriend?” the blonde girl asked, and Bucky couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped him. It would never cease to amaze him how people thought he could have a girlfriend. Maybe his well-adjusted facade was better than he realized.

“Just a friend. It’s her birthday.” he said as Hans slid another shot and what was presumably a sidecar to her. She rose her eyebrows at that, giving him another smile.

“Just a friend, eh?” she asked, to which Bucky nodded. That was exactly what he said, was it not? He ran over the translation in his head, but didn’t think he’d made a mistake. The girl picked up her shot for a toast, and while it took him a second to remember the proper response, he soon picked his up as well. “To friends.”

“Cheers.” he said, and she clinked their glasses together before knocking the shot back. He swallowed his own in one go, the recognizable burn soothing him from the inside out. The flavor and feeling were warm and familiar, even if he would miss the buzz that used to accompany it. The girl held out her hand for a shake.

“Claire.” she said, introducing herself. Bucky briefly held her hand before letting go.

“Bucky.” he said in return, though he still didn’t like giving people his real name. But with so many people in this pub who knew him, he couldn’t risk it. Claire smiled at him over her drink, sliding from her chair.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. Hopefully I’ll see you around.” she said, keeping eye contact as she walked by. Bucky decided that he was just not going to understand this interaction, going to pick up Mika’s two shots. The third glass was refilled with whiskey. 

“You’re welcome.” Hans said before moving on to the next customer. Bucky happily drank the second shot, figuring he could use it. With that, he grabbed Mika’s drinks and made his way back to the table.

It was going to be an interesting night.


	20. Pull Me Close

Bucky wished, for the first time in a long time, that he could get drunk. 

Not necessarily because he was nervous in this party situation - though he very much was, if he was honest with himself. But because everyone seemed to be having so much  _ fun _ . The crowd in the pub started thinning out just before midnight, leaving a more manageable group that didn’t make Bucky want to crawl out of his skin. He watched as they talked and laughed and joked, sipped his coffee as Mika and Elena twirled around on the dance floor. She occasionally took a moment to peel herself away, coming over to try and pull him onto the dance floor or lean against him for a moment’s reprieve. He remembered a time, long ago, when he’d be right there with her. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the warmth of the bar, smell the perfumes of the girls he danced with. Their giggles reverberated through him as he pulled them close to his chest, their makeup leaving peach and red smears on his white shirts. Some of these memories were hazy, but not because of the brain damage inflicted by the scientists. No, he got to relive these with the pleasant sepia glow formed by whiskey and a simpler time.

Surprisingly, Claire also stopped by for a short while to chat, sliding into the chair next to him and leaning in close. He wondered if she had trouble hearing, since she felt the need to decrease the space between them. He also wondered if she knew that her posture made it very easy to see down the top of her dress; women in general were less concerned about modesty these days, which was their prerogative, but he made an effort to keep his eyes on hers. That way, if she didn’t realize her wardrobe dysfunction, then she would not be embarrassed later. She confused him further by asking if he wanted to have a drink at her place. Again, clouded memories of drunken nights past gave him an inkling as to her intentions, and he almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Almost. Somehow, he kept his face neutral, giving what he hoped was a polite smile and saying no, his friend was still here, he needed to make sure she made it home safely. Claire looked disappointed, but gave him a warm smile nonetheless, saying that she hoped to see him around again.

The clock was pushing one o’clock before Mika finally collapsed into the chair next to him, leaning heavily on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his. Her cheeks were red and her eyes bright, the little hairs around her face sticking to her skin with sweat. She looked so happy, it gave him a warm feeling behind his sternum. Yes, this is what her birthday should be all about. 

“You’re still here!” she exclaimed, though he could tell by her voice that she was getting tired. She looked at him with such affection that he had to clear his throat and look down at his empty coffee mug.

“Yes, I am.” he responded. He wanted to give her some sort of sarcastic response, but none would come to mind. “Are you having fun?” 

“ _ So _ much fun.” she said, dragging out her words. “But I’m  _ so _ tired. I haven’t stayed out this late in a  _ long _ time. It’s hard to stay up late! Especially when we get up so early to work out.” She bolted upright at this, as if the realization just occurred to her. “Oh my God, we’re getting up so early tomorrow! I’m gonna die!”

“I think we can skip tomorrow.” he said, chuckling lowly at her theatrics. He already had a feeling that they would not be going to the gym in the morning, and a sneaking suspicion that his trip to the Farmer’s Market would be solo. She let out a long breath, propping her cheek on his arm again.

“Okay good. Cause I would be useless.” she said. Now that she was sitting down, her fatigue was setting in. She let out another sigh. “I’m ready to go home. Will you walk me home?” 

“Yes ma’am.” he said softly, and for a moment she looked like she was just going to fall asleep right there on that chair, head resting against him. But she pushed herself up with a groan, grabbing her purse and slipping the strap across her body and moving towards the door. She stopped by her friends, kissing them each goodbye before taking hold of Bucky’s arm again and letting him lead her into the night. 

It was warm and quiet outside, the silence a sharp contrast to the rowdiness of the pub. Mika slipped off her high heels, stuffing them into her bag so that she could walk unhindered. “You know,” she said, after a block or so, “I think that blonde girl was  _ very interested  _ in you.”

“Claire?” he asked, though he didn’t know another blonde to which she could be referring. She made a noise that reminded him of his younger days, when the girls would joke with each other about flirtations and courtship. 

“So her name is Claire?” she questioned, giving him a smug smile. She hugged his arm tighter. “Tell me more about  _ Claire _ .” 

“I don’t really know her.” he replied, slightly confused. Obviously he just met her tonight, and he wasn’t exactly the outgoing type. The only reason he knew her name was because she was more extroverted. “She drinks sidecars and thought it was unusual for me to admit I like wine. That’s about it.” 

“Bucky!” Mika groaned, letting him fish his keys from his pocket and swipe them into the apartment building. “She was  _ flirting _ with you!”

He had suspected as such, but didn’t want to assume anything. “Perhaps she was just making conversation. Being polite.”

“Maybe at the bar, but not when she came to sit next to you.” she said, her words punctuated by huffing and puffing from climbing the stairs. She really had worn herself out dancing. “She was trying to show off in all sorts of ways for you.” 

“Oh, so that was on purpose.” he replied. Even if he’d formulated this hypothesis earlier, he figured his response would irritate Mika. And that hypothesis was correct. She groaned again, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“Bucky!” she said incredulously, almost chastising him. She was so appalled by his reaction that she nearly tripped on the steps, catching herself on his arm and pausing for a moment before righting herself. “Bucky, listen. Listen. Will you make me some tea before you go to bed?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. She was so easily distracted when intoxicated. “Yes, I will.” he replied. 

“Good. Then I have plenty of time to tell you what a dumbass you are.” she said, pulling away from him and taking a moment to lean against the railing now that they were at the top of the stairs.

“It’s not very nice to ask a favor and then call me a dumbass.” he pointed out, crossing his arms. His right one felt cold now that she wasn’t hanging on it. She held up a finger, swaying slightly as she tried to make her rebuttal.

“It’s my birthday, I can do whatever I want.” she said, deciding that was the best choice of argument. 

“It’s past midnight, and therefore not technically your birthday anymore.” he argued. He had no doubt that he was going to make her tea and hear all about his minimal interactions with a girl, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with her. She pushed off the railing, going to the door and spending way more time than usual trying to find her keys in her bag.

“We haven’t gone to sleep yet, so it’s still today.” she replied, still rummaging in her purse. She made a triumphant noise as she pulled the keys from the depths of the handbag. “And you have to be nice to me today, it’s my birthday.”

“I know. That’s why I’m making you tea.” he said, following her as she unlocked the door and strutted into her apartment. She hopped up onto the kitchen counter, swinging her legs as he grabbed the kettle and put it on to boil.

“That’s right. Cause you’re like, by far the nicest friend I have.” she said, smiling at him tenderly. “Which brings me back to Claire.”

“I’m not sure how those two are related.” he said, turning and leaning against the opposite counter from her. Now that they were no longer in public, he could tuck his glove into his pocket and roll up his sleeves. July was nearly here, and the heat with it.

“Because you are so sweet and wonderful and you deserve to be happy!” she rambled. His heart pulsed painfully. No, he didn’t deserve happiness. But that was not a conversation that they were going to have right now. “That girl was so into you!”

“Nah.” he said, shaking his head. She made a loud noise of frustration, laying back on the island and covering her face with her hands. She called him a few choice names under her breath and sat back up, fixing him with a serious glare.

“Yes she was! Trust me, I know all the signs. And she definitely wanted to  _ get to know  _ you.” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. He shook his head, dropping his eyes to the laminate flooring. 

“She did invite me back to her apartment.” he admitted, looking at her from under the bill of his baseball cap. Her jaw dropped, her shocked face comically dramatic. She shook her head and blinked rapidly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What?!” she said, her voice high and sharp in exclamation. “And you didn’t go with her? Bucky!” 

“Didn’t think it was a good idea.” he said with a shrug. It was true. The night on Mika’s couch was the first time he’d spent the night (literally) with a woman since before the Fall. He was in no position to spend the night (figuratively) with a woman. She dropped her head into her hands, letting out a long, drawn out grumble. 

“Bucky. Listen. I’m gonna ask you a personal question. Like,  _ really _ personal. Are you ready?” she asked. His heart immediately plummeted into his shoes, and he had to stop himself from immediately bolting. His mind whirred with possibilities of questions she could ask him; she’d been brave enough to ask about his metal arm earlier, and now she was under the influence of alcohol. She could ask about where he got his training, about his past before Bucharest, about his scars or the experiments or- “When is the last time you got laid?”

He let out a bark of a laugh and then promptly started choking. Of all the questions he thought she might ask, that was at the very bottom of the list. He quickly did the math in his head, but didn’t dare to speak the number aloud. At least, not right at first. “It’s, uh, it’s been a while.” 

“‘A while’? What kind of ‘while’ are we talking about?” she asked. Again, he fidgeted and shifted, looking anywhere but her weirdly calm and unblinking gaze. 

“Uh, seventy-four years. Give or take.” he admitted, waiting for her reaction. She stared at him for a long moment before giggling. The giggles quickly turned into full on laughter. Clearly, she thought he was kidding, even if he was being completely serious. 

“Wow, okay then.” she said, trying to calm herself down enough to speak. He grinned, her glee contagious, even if what she was laughing at wasn’t actually a joke. “So it’s been a minute.”

“It’s been a minute.” he agreed, making her giggle again. 

“Okay okay okay, so you just gotta get your confidence up a little. Get back on the horse, so to speak. Or let the horse get on you, if that’s what you’re in to.” she said, tucking her feet underneath her and pushing her skirt down so she wouldn’t be putting on a show. He could feel his cheeks as the blush crept into them, the back of his neck feeling hot. 

“I don’t think so.” he said with a hushed laugh. Mika certainly always had such faith in him. And while he remembered really enjoying sex at one point in his life, he couldn’t picture allowing himself to be that vulnerable now.

“And why not?” she asked, uncurling her legs again and sliding off the counter. She crossed her arms across her chest, and again her steady gaze made him nervous. He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth here, and tried to think of any response that wouldn’t lead to further questions.

“Don’t think anyone ever wanted to sleep with the Tin Man.” he said, waving the fingers of his metal hand. Even if he ignored the whole super-soldier-brainwashed-assassin bit of his life and the post traumatic stress tendencies and the mild paranoia, he still did not think anyone would be interested once they saw his prosthesis and scars. Mika stepped closer to him, putting her hands on his cheeks and leveling with him. He stood extremely still, waiting for her next move. 

“Bucky you are handsome and funny and smart and any woman would be lucky if you gave them the time of day, let alone let them get into bed with you.” she said, patting his cheeks. He still felt paralyzed, both by her words and her closeness. Her proximity didn’t make him uncomfortable, but her compliments did. “You gotta be confident. You’re awesome, and you should just like, do whatever you want, you know?”

“Thanks, Mika.” he said softly. He didn’t understand how she could feel so positively about him, but he stopped trying to find reason in it. Maybe he should stop overthinking things and just take her words at face value. She gently tapped his cheeks again. 

“You’re welcome.” she said, smiling. She cocked her head to the side. “Can I give you a kiss?”

“What?” he asked, more shocked now than he’d been through the entire conversation. A kiss? Why would Mika want to kiss him? She cackled at his reaction, shaking her head.

“Oh my God, just to get it out of the way.” she said, still laughing. His face must still be showing his bewilderment, because she proceeded to elaborate. “You said it’s been a while. So this can just be a little practice.”

“Don’t need practice.” he said, trying to give some false bravado. Really, he was just trying to deflect, and he was fully aware and unashamed of that.

“Kissing is a skill just like any other, you need practice.” she said matter-of-factly. “Besides, then you wouldn’t be so nervous the next time a cute girl at the pub asks you to come home with her.”

“Don’t know if that’s the limiting factor.” he deadpanned. A year ago, he wouldn’t even consider this. But now, after all the time he’d spent with Mika, the thought of relationships with people (platonic or otherwise) seemed a little more attainable. He knew he would never be the man he once was, but now he really felt and believed that he could be a new man, a different man. Mika rolled her eyes again.

“Always so dramatic.” she said, shaking her head. “Come on.”

Fuck it. “Alright, lay it on me.” he said, though he felt like he had ants running through his veins. She grinned happily, giving him no time for preparation before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. Her skin was warm, and soft, and his senses were flooded with the scent of flowers and the taste of tequila. It was over before he knew it, Mika backing up and sitting back on the island with a self satisfied smirk. 

“There you go. Over and done with. Now next time  _ Claire _ asks to spend a little time with you, you’ll be ready.” she said, shaking her shoulders in a little shimmy. Behind him, the kettle started whistling, giving him a good excuse to turn away from her and maybe hide the flush on his face.

“Full of shit.” he muttered. He didn’t really intend for her to hear it, but she did, and laughed at him once again. He went about mixing the honey and nutmeg into the hot water, dropping in the peppermint tea bag to let it steep. His lips still felt the ghost of hers. It had been so long since he’d been physically close to someone like that, but just like with her hugs and when she linked their arms together, he found he didn’t mind it. Perhaps she was right. He wouldn’t make any immediate moves with anyone for anything more  _ intimate _ , but he could see the possibility was there. He handed the mug to her, his heart rate and core temperature returning to their normal. 

“Thank you,” she sang, taking the cup and carefully setting it down next to her. She held her hands out to him, making grabbing motions until he carefully laid his palms against hers. Mika was affectionate enough when sober; it seemed this quality was amplified when drunk. She pulled him closer so that their hands were resting on her knees, her feet grazing his legs as she swung them back and forth. He didn’t like the way her hand felt on his metal hand, but knew that she was not going to let it go. “And thank you for staying out tonight. I know you don’t like being around a bunch of people, but I am so happy that you were there.”

“Of course. Thank you for having me.” he said softly. She let go of his hands, only to hold her arms out for a hug instead. He hesitated for just a moment before stepping a little closer, standing between her knees and putting his right arm around her waist. She rested heavily against him, laying her head against his and sighing.

“You’re the best. This was the best birthday ever.” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. She held him close for a long time, longer than she ever had before. Oddly, he wasn’t uncomfortable, though at one point he did wonder again if she fell asleep. But soon she sat up straight, giving him his personal space again. “And now I’m being that annoying overemotional drunk friend.” 

“You’re fine. I’ve dealt with much less pleasant drunks.” he said. He’d remembered more days with the Howling Commandos - though less about the missions, and more about the times in between. She tapped his chest lightly, and he moved out of the way so she could return to the ground again.

“Well thank you for indulging me and also being so sweet.” she said, grabbing her tea and carefully holding it with both hands. “I’m going to crawl in bed and drink my tea. Oh! Do you want to go with me?”

“To bed?” he asked, one eyebrow perked. He chuckled at her alarmed expression as her words finally registered in her brain.

“Oh my God, I meant to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow. I just forgot to say it out loud.” she said, her cheeks tinged pink. She shook off her chagrin, choosing to ramble some more instead. “Though, I would trust you to share a bed with me. You’re very trustworthy. I don’t invite just any of my friends to bed. But that’s not the point. The point is we’re going shopping in the morning. So text me when you wake up.”

“You won’t be awake when I wake up.” he pointed out. She paused, but then shrugged and nodded in agreement.

“Fine. Text me when it’s a normal people hour. Goodnight!” she said, turning on her heel and walking towards her bedroom. Bucky shook his head, letting himself out and going across the hall to his own apartment. 

The kiss they’d shared was certainly groundbreaking, but he found it didn’t shift things as much as he thought it would. As more time passed, it became just another fact and less of an unusual happenstance. Mika had certainly not been shy about it or embarrassed by it, so he didn’t feel the need to be either. It seemed that Bucky was even more open to physical affection than he realized. 

Summer was officially in full swing, and Mika was loving it. She loved the warmth, loved the long days, and even loved the surprise summer showers that left the world smelling of wet concrete and grass. Gone were the days of hiding amongst layers of thermals and flannels, and now she could live freely in her shorts and tank tops and cotton summer dresses. Her windows were permanently open to the summer breeze, and it was easier to wake up earlier on the weekends to go to the gym with Bucky if the sun was already waking up as well. But today’s workout would be a little tougher than usual. There was a sign at the front door, telling them that the gym was indeed open, but that there was no air conditioning. Apparently, it wouldn’t be fixed until the afternoon. 

“We can wait.” Mika offered, shrugging. She didn’t have any other plans for today. Besides, maybe they could go get breakfast at the new bistro a few streets over instead. 

“I need to be at the pub at three.” Bucky replied with an apologetic look. She nearly smacked herself on the forehead. She was still getting used to the hours of his new job, the change after nearly a year of knowing him throwing her for a loop. 

“Right. Of course. Well then, guess we’ll just be a little sweatier for the market, huh?” she said, pulling the door open. It wasn’t terribly warm inside, but the air was very still. She wondered how long they would last today before the lack of circulation was too much for them. It was even quieter at this early hour than it was in the winter; the old ladies that usually pedalled the recumbent bikes had moved their party to the pool now that the weather was warm. But even though they were alone, Bucky insisted on using the enclosed group exercise room. Mika didn’t mind; there were plenty of clocks to keep track of the time, and she could use the mirrors along the wall to check her form as they sparred. She had yet to get him to actually  _ fight back _ during their sessions, but she could at least land a hit here and there. The self defense stuff had been great, but this was fun, and often left her feeling like they’d had a real, intense workout.

About twenty minutes in, it became apparent that it was much more than “mildly warm” in the building. She’d tried three times to tie her hair into a bun on the top of her head before it finally stuck, the sweat holding it up. Bucky had even abandoned his baseball cap and pushed his sleeves up, sweat soaking through his shirt and dripping from his long hair. 

“We might have underestimated the heat.” he said, hands on his hips. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to get the long locks to stay back. She pulled the hem of her shirt up, wiping her cheeks and neck. 

“No, we’re good. This is fine.” she said, trying to fan herself with her shirt. The fabric was sticking uncomfortably to her skin. “It’s just extra intense. Working on our bikini bodies.”

“On our what?” he asked, looking confused. She gestured to her torso.

“You know, swim suit. It’s summer.” she replied. Another moment where she forgot Romanian was not his first language. She saw as the light turned on in his mind.

“Oh, right.” he said, as if it were something he’d forgotten about. Of course, he had probably been busy the past few years and didn’t spend much time at the pool. She kept fidgeting with her shirt.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m about to have to take this off. What about you?” she asked pulling at her sticky shirt. He nodded, seeming like he was agreeing with her. He gave her a cheeky grin.

“Are you just trying to get me to take my shirt off again?” he questioned, though he was pulling at his shirt as well. She scoffed, pulling her tank top off and drying some of her sweat. She was glad she put on the black sports bra this morning.

“You will never let me forget that, will you?” she said lowly, shaking her head and flinging her damp shirt at him. He easily caught it, making a disgusted face before tossing it next to their stuff. “Are you saying that, if you randomly showed up at my door to find me shirtless and sweating, you wouldn’t be momentarily distracted and-or concerned?”

“Perhaps.” he said with a shrug, finally giving in and peeling his sweaty shirt off. He balled it up and threw it at her, the fabric spreading back out during its flight. She squealed, batting it away before it could land on her. He chuckled lowly as she glared at him. “Good reactions.”

“I swear.” she said, stepping towards him purposefully. She smirked before engaging him again, continuing their sparring from earlier. It was definitely easier to move now that she wasn’t hindered by the overly soaked clothing. Sure, she couldn’t yet keep up with some super special forces guy, but she definitely felt confident enough that if something happened and Bucky wasn’t there, she could take care of herself. And that was what mattered.    


She was doing better than usual today, though, and she had the lack of air conditioning to thank for that. With the extra sweat, Bucky’s hair was sticking to his face and falling into his eyes, adding an extra hindrance for him. Now he had to dodge her punches and the sharp strands that kept threatening to blind him. 

“Fuck.” he whispered, backing off from her attack and flicking his head, trying to get his visibility back.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. No matter how often they did this, it never seemed to get easier on her cardio. He shook his head.

“No, you’re good.” he said, and even he was breathing a little harder than usual. He gestured to the current issue. “Just having some extra trouble here.”

“Your hair is getting super long.” Mika agreed, calling a time out and walking over to her bag. She dug through it for a minute before emerging victorious with a black hair tie. “Come here. Do you ever think about cutting it? Or are you growing it out?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t really occur to me till now.” he said, moving towards her. She went behind him, running her fingers through his hair and gathering it together. 

“Well if you want, Maria is a hair stylist. I always have her do mine. I can ask if she can cut yours too next time she comes over. Oh!” she gasped as a thought occurred to her. Bucky pulled away, the working bun falling apart as his eyes scanned the area for any possible threats. Mika grimaced; she hadn’t meant to startle him. “Sorry, sorry. Just thought of something.”

“What?” he asked, and she couldn’t stop the Cheshire grin from forming.

“You’ll see.” she said, gesturing for him to turn back around. He eyed her suspiciously, but did as she asked. She hummed one of her new favorite songs, carefully piecing and folding chunks of his hair over each other until it was arranged into a perfect French plait. She tied off the end with her extra band before taking a moment to admire her work. “There we go. Check it out.”

Bucky cautiously turned, going to the mirrors and gazing at his reflection. He turned his way this way and that, taking in the braid from every angle. He gave her a low chuckle, which she expected, but then he kept laughing, the volume raising until he was doubled over and tears were leaking from his eyes. Loud peals of laughter echoed through the exercise room. She’d never heard him laugh so loud before, and his amusement was contagious. Out of all the sarcastic comments and dirty jokes, it was a braid of all things that had done him in. She found herself giggling as well, though more at his reaction than anything.

“I look  _ ridiculous _ !” he exclaimed, his voice an octave higher and his accent dropped as he continued to laugh. 

“No, you look great!” she replied, though she couldn’t hold herself together either. Her stomach hurt from laughing with him. He started to quiet down, but started laughing again every time he spotted himself in the mirror. It took a good few minutes before his chuckles subsided, and even then he was still grinning. Mika walked over to him, tugging the tie from the end of the braid. “It looks good, but I’ll just put it up in a little man bun for you.”

“It’s very beautiful, but I don’t think I can pull it off.” he said, holding still as she undid the plait and instead just pulled it into a messy bun at the back of his head. 

“Oh, I think you can. But if you think you look ridiculous…” she left the statement hanging, finishing her work and stepping away. “There. Now we match.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” he said, letting out a few more laughs and shaking his head. “Perhaps I should ask Maria for a little trim.”

“I don’t know, the long hair is very trendy right now. You’d make an excellent hipster.” she said, going back to the center of the room. He moved his head around more, testing the integrity of the bun.

“If I’m honest, this is very convenient.” he said, seemingly surprised by the outcomes. She gave did a little shake with her shoulders, looking very proud of herself.

“You know me, functional  _ and _ fashion forward.” she said, standing in a power pose with her hands on her hips. 

“And full of shit.” he said, making her jaw drop.

“Rude.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He gave her a challenging grin, gesturing towards her.

“Do something about it.” he replied. She got that mischievous glint in her eye, taking him up on his invitation and beginning the fight.

Now that he was unhindered, the games could begin again.


	21. Enter Player Two

Mika bit back a groan, fighting the fatigue and the hangover clinging to her from the night before. She moved slowly, trying not to wake the man sleeping next to her. The muscles of his back were obvious even in the dim grey dawn of morning, his dark hair splayed across the pillow. Her fatigue and hangover were now tinged with a little bit of regret. She pinched the bridge of her nose, internally berating herself for just a moment before getting up and rummaging through her pile of clean clothes.

“Where are you going?” his low voice seemed louder in the early hour. She froze for a moment before continuing to get dressed. 

“I’ll be back in a while. You can stay, if you like. Or let yourself out.” she whispered. Coffee. She needed coffee. He mumbled something unintelligible before luckily rolling over. Good, she wasn’t ready to deal with this just yet. She rushed through the kitchen as much as her headache would let her, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the machine to spit out the sweet, caffeinated elixir of the gods. She barely remembered to grab her bag and all but stumbled into the hallway, only to be met with Bucky’s smug smile as he leaned against the wall.

“Good morning.” he said in a tone of voice that told her he was about to unleash a hell of a lot of ridicule. 

“Sorry I’m late.” she said, handing one cup of coffee to him. He took a sip and grimaced, handing it back to her to trade. Dammit, she’d given him the wrong one. He was still wearing that Cheshire grin, and she blatantly ignored it before starting down the stairs.

“Looks like someone had a good night last night.” he teased as they made it down to the sidewalk, unable to hide his smile. She gave him a glare out of the corner of her eyes, but it made her head hurt. 

“I don’t need your judgement.” she said lowly, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and hopefully going towards the gym. She’d not been this hungover in a while; perhaps she should have attempted Bucky’s peppermint tea last night. He gave a low chuckle, patting her back in a way that was a little rougher than she was ready for.

“Not judging. Glad you had a good time.” he said, tucking his hands back into his pockets. She tried to glare at him again, with the same results as the first time.

“Why must you always subtly remind me exactly how thin the walls are?” she asked. She regretted bringing him coffee now, since he’d chosen to make fun of her relentlessly. He laughed again, and this time she could feel in her bones how proud he was about to be of his comeback.

“Maybe you should be a little quieter then.” he replied. Not even a good comeback. She shoved his shoulder, but he barely moved. Damn him and his super strength. Didn’t he see how she was suffering?

“You have no room to comment, Mr. Seventy-Four-Years. You’re the creeper for listening.” she said, waving her finger at him. He shrugged, her burn merely rolling off his back. The grin had not left his face for the whole conversation.

“It wasn’t by choice. I think everyone on the top three floors was listening.” he replied. She let out a noise of frustration. Damn him and his answers for everything. And damn this hangover for slowing her brain down so much. 

“You know what? I’m not sorry.” she said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. Nope, that hurt also. This workout was not going to go well. 

“Never said you should be.” he pointed out, though she could tell by the way he carried himself that he was very proud of this banter. Fine, if he wanted to play first thing in the morning, then she could play. Or try to, at least.

“You know, we could be having a reverse of this conversation if you would quit giving  _ Claire _ the run around.” she said, her words heavy with meaning. She’d spotted them chatting at least once every weekend since their initial meeting, but nothing ever came of it. She admired the girl for her perseverance, really. He laughed again, shaking his head as if the idea were preposterous. 

“I’m afraid Claire just keeps setting herself up for disappointment.” he sighed, and for a brief second his focus changed as he lost himself in his thoughts. He quickly brought himself back as she linked their elbows together, sighing dramatically.

“And why’s that? Are you a hopeless romantic, holding out for your one true love?” she asked. She gasped as a thought hit her, her reaction interrupting his response before he could get it out. “Wait, are you a  _ virgin _ ?” 

He laughed louder at that, a little closer to the real laugh he’d finally unleashed a few weeks prior. “No, I am not.” he replied, and while he seemed to be stuck in his head again for a moment, this time it seemed different. She patted his hand in a comforting manner, like her grandmother used to do when she was younger and self conscious.

“It’s okay if you are, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s adorable, waiting for someone special.” she said in an excessively sweet manner. If she actually thought he was saving himself then she definitely would  _ not _ make fun of him for it, but since she had no doubt that he was being truthful, she was definitely going to abuse this for a long time. 

“Again, not a virgin.” he deadpanned. She hugged his arm a little closer.

“Then why are we still saying ‘no’ to Claire?” she asked. Questions about his past were generally off limits, but pestering him about his sex life? Fair game. He shrugged again, his arm weighed down by her hanging on it. 

“That’s a level of intimacy I’m not ready for.” he said truthfully, actually making her breath catch for a second. Bucky was always real with her, but his moments of brutal honesty like that were few and far between. She didn’t think they were going to get that deep this early. He must have sensed the shift in her demeanor, because he added, “Plus, I don’t think she’s my type.”

“You have a type?” she asked, surprised. “And what, pray tell, is ‘your type’?” 

He was silent for a long minute, and she could practically see the steam coming out of his ears as the gears in his mind turned. How could he not expect her to ask? He knew better than that. He finally just laughed, rolling his eyes. “I have no idea anymore.” he admitted.

“That’s because you’ve been out of the game for too long. Time to jump back in.” she said, nodding her thanks as he held the door open for her. The gym was just as empty and quiet as it usual. Good, so no one would be around while she sweated out the alcohol from the night before.

“I’ll get there eventually.” he said, as if trying to mollify a child asking for something. They checked in and went into the exercise room, Mika tossing her stuff into the corner while Bucky laid his down in a calm, organized manner. He pulled off his glove and rolled up his sleeves, laying his hat on top of his bag. She watched as he tried and failed a few times to pull his hair back, finally holding her hand out for the hair tie only after his brows knit together in irritation. 

“Here, let me.” she said, and he heaved a frustrated sigh as he gave it to her. She laughed, going behind him and artfully organizing his hair into a little bun. 

“You make it look so easy.” he commented lowly, giving away his frustration. It was amusing to her, finally seeing him struggle with something. He was so good at everything else. 

“Bucky, I’ve been doing this for literally decades.” she said, patting his shoulder and moving away so she could warm up a little. “You learned like, a few weeks ago. It takes practice, hair is not an easy thing to manage.”

“If you say so.” he said, actually stretching a little bit himself, the joints in his spine popping as he moved. She did a few squats, trying to get her blood moving and maybe get rid of her headache. It was already obvious that this workout was going to be rough, so she was just going to own it. She’d watched a YouTube video once about a drunken martial artist; maybe she could be the hungover one. 

“Are you going to fight back today?” she asked, shaking her hands out. She now asked him this every week, trying to goad him into actually going on the offensive since she was now regularly landing hits on him. 

“Nope.” he replied. This had been his answer every time. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to give him as much attitude as she could muster in her current state.

“Bucky, I’ll have to learn how to defend eventually.” she said, giving him a pointed look. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his expression unamused.

“I already taught you all my defensive moves.” he said. Six months ago, she would have taken his statement at face value. But now, she could see that he was trying to deflect and distract. And she was not going to allow that anymore.

“Yes, you did, and you are a very wonderful teacher and I am beyond grateful for all of your lessons.” she said sincerely. “But perhaps it’s time to put them into practice. Isn’t it getting boring, just letting me pummel you into oblivion?”

He gave a dry laugh at that, which she was hoping for. “Emphasis on the ‘letting’ you.” he replied back, a little bit of bite on the end of his statement. She sauntered up a little closer to him, trying to look as formidable as possible. He didn’t usually fall for her overcompetitive tactics, but for some reason she kept trying.

“Come on, what are you afraid of? Me beating you?” she teased, a challenging look in her eye. For once, he didn’t have a snarky comeback.

“Afraid to hurt you.” he said. Anyone else, she would assume they were just playing the game with her. But he said it with such seriousness in his eyes that her heart had a hard, painful beat behind her sternum. She cleared her throat and straightened up to her full height, trying to appear more confident than she felt.

“I don’t believe you can hurt me.” she said. Sure, she believed he had the literal, physical capability to harm her. But she also believed that he would never allow himself. She held his gaze, waiting for his response. He shuffled his feet slightly, and it looked like his resolve was waning. She gave him her winningest smile, batting her eyelashes for good measure. He finally sighed, and she knew that she won. 

“Only touches.” he said, meaning that he wasn’t going to go all out and hit her. She almost rolled her eyes, but instead put all her energy into her sass.

“Oh, and here I was expecting you to throw me on the floor.” she said. Not her best work, but it would do. He got that look in his eye that he had earlier: another comment was coming that he was proud of.

“I think someone else already did that.” he said, and she felt actual pain in her stomach at the lame response. This time she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, her irritation giving her a stitch in her side.

“Uh, excuse you,” she said, putting her hands on her hips in feux anger. “He threw me on the bed, because I’m a fucking lady.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to say something else, but chose to close it and instead held up his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.” he said, pressing his lips together. Once again, he was holding back his thoughts. She was over it.

“That wasn’t really what you were going to say.” she stated, keeping her power pose. She waved her hand at him, encouraging him to open up. “You’re growing soft. Out with it.”

“You’re certainly a lady who’s fucking.” he said quietly, pressing his lips together again, but this time to keep his laughter from bubbling out. Her jaw dropped at the lewdness of his statement, and soon she dissolved into laughter.

“Oh my God, I can’t with you!” she exclaimed, shoving his shoulder. He took a step back, his weight barely shifting with the force of her push. They paused, the tension building before she went after him again, this time starting up their sparring. He always waited for her to initiate it, moving to block her jabs and swipes. They went for a few minutes before she paused. Her hangover was receding now that her heart rate was up. “Are you just gonna stand there and let me win again?”

“I suppose not.” he said, waiting a beat before shooting his arm out and trying to touch her waist. She surprised both of them by blocking his arm, her fingers curling around his wrist. She could feel the tension of his muscles under her hand, and had no doubt that he could easily break free and completely thrash her if he wanted. His face remained calm and neutral; he was concentrating on not using his super strength. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to play. 

Turns out, sparring was much harder when Bucky actually fought back. He was still holding back, sure, but it was obvious the longer they went exactly how skilled he was. Yea, it was exhausting. But it was also really, really fun. When they left the gym an hour later, Mika was more tired and sweaty than she’d been for any of their other times together (save, perhaps, the day the air conditioning was broken), but also felt the most accomplished.

“You know, I don’t think I did half bad.” she said as they made their way back to the apartments. He made a noise of agreement, pulling down his shirt sleeves and pulling his glove over his metal hand. 

“You did very well.” he said. He was sweating more than usual as well, which also gave her a sense of pride. The hot summer sun didn’t help either, already beating down on them from where it hung in the sky. She still didn’t know how he wore long sleeves when it was so warm out, and decided to go ahead and buy him a short sleeve tshirt the next time she had the chance. She turned around so she was walking backwards, opening her arms so he could see them in all their bare glory.

“And see? You didn’t hurt me. Told you it would be fine.” she said, a self satisfied smirk on her face. He rolled his eyes, smacking her hand so she would be knocked off balance.

“Walk normally, before you hurt yourself.” he grumbled. Mika did as she was told, but she couldn’t get the smile off her face. They made it back to their building, agreeing to change before heading out to the market. She moved quietly through her apartment, her companion from the night before still passed out on her bed. This time he didn’t wake as she changed her clothes, pulling on something clean and comfortable before tip-toeing back to the hallway. Bucky was already waiting for her after donning a new long sleeve shirt and jeans. He perked an eyebrow as she eased the door closed.

“Trying to be stealthy?” he asked lowly as the door finally clicked shut. She gave a sheepish smile.

“My, uh,  _ friend _ is still asleep.” she said, dropping her eyes and pushing past him to the stairs. She braced herself for the jokes, but all she got was vague confusion.

“You’re just letting a stranger stay in your apartment? Alone?” he asked, as if concerned for her safety. She cringed slightly, trying to decide the best answer to give him.

“He’s, uh, not exactly a stranger. And he’ll probably be gone by the time we get back.” she replied, continuing her descent down the stairs. She thought the vague responses would save her, but it only seemed to hurt her. He made a curious noise in the back of his throat.

“So a new boyfriend then?” he asked, his tone once again laced with meaning. She let out a long, high  _ uhhh _ as her thoughts buffered and organized. This was not a conversation she thought she would be having this morning.

“‘Boyfriend’ is a strong word for him.” she said, taking a deep breath. She was faced with a decision: admit the truth, or deflect and hope that the night before was a one time thing. Which it was. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Unfortunately, this response only seemed to confuse him further.

“So, not a stranger, but not a boyfriend.” he said, trying to reason through her vague responses. At this point, he was literally just trying to understand, not to pry. But it still made Mika die inside a little bit. She heaved a sigh as they opened the door to the outside world, going the opposite direction than that morning.

“He’s, uh, kind of my ex.” she finally admitted, not looking him in the eye. He made a low, disappointed noise, tutting and shaking his head.

“Been there, done that.” he said. “But even back in my day, exes were exes for a reason.”

“I mean, you haven’t  _ done that _ , done that.” she said, always trying to gain the upper hand in their battle of wits. “But it’s not like we’re getting back together or anything. It was one time. And now we’re done again. No matter what he says or does.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky replied, his tone giving away that he was completely unconvinced.

“Seriously. One time thing. No encores.” she said, gesturing theatrically with her hands. 

“Sure.” he agreed, once again sounding doubtful. 

“Really. No matter how much he insists he’s changed, it’s not gonna happen.” she said, realizing that the more she said, the less sure she sounded. She clamped her mouth shut, preventing herself from rambling any more.

“Don’t have to convince me.” he said as they made it to the market. She eyed him, but he seemed to be genuine in his response. She shouldn’t really be surprised, she realized. Bucky wasn’t exactly the type to push back on this whole thing, though that was probably because he didn’t know the whole story. That would be Elena’s job, when or if she found out. He didn’t bring it up again as they did their shopping, the conversation back to their usual banter. It made her feel more comfortable, less judged. That was nice, since she knew the judgement would come later if her other friends found out. 

Bucky thought the apartment would be empty whenever they returned from their trip, and for a moment, that’s how it seemed. He helped her carry her heavy groceries to the kitchen, sliding into the barstool while she made toast and more coffee. He eyed the empty wine bottles and forgotten glasses on the coffee table. Yes, that seemed about right. 

Everything felt good today. Today, he felt more normal than he ever had. He’d forgotten what it was like, to have, dare he say, a best friend. She’d just slid the plate between them and taken her perch on the island when he heard shuffling from her bedroom. He paused for a moment, his instincts telling him to prepare for a fight. He dutifully shoved them down. 

A tall, handsome man strode confidently into the kitchen, clad only in his boxers and a charming smile. Mika froze mid-bite; it seemed she did not expect him to be here right now either. Bucky made his casual observations - high muscle tone, but low mass, likely an endurance athlete in his youth. Slight limp with his left leg, possibly an old injury. Phone clutched in his right hand, demonstrated likely handedness. He gave them a bright smile. Bucky immediately did not like him.

“Morning, lads.” he said, digging through Mika’s bags without asking first. Clearly they were very familiar with each other, if he could be this casual. 

“Bucky, this is Dominic.” she said carefully, as if worried for his reaction. She needn’t be concerned, of course. Who she spent her time with was her prerogative. Even if this guy was taking one of her peaches. And a piece of toast. And Bucky could have sworn he eyed his floral mug full of coffee for a moment.

“Dominic. Cheers.” the other man said, holding out his hand that didn’t have the stolen food in it. Bucky reached out and shook it, minding the super strength.

“Bucky.” he replied, fighting every urge he had to give him a fake name.  _ Exes are exes for a reason, James _ , the female voice in his head said. Everyone was someone’s ex. But he did not trust  _ this _ ex, for reasons he couldn’t quite identify. He didn’t think too hard about it; when it counted, his gut never led him astray. He watched as Dominic walked around the island, planting a kiss on Mika’s cheek on his way to the coffee machine. Yes, definitely familiar.

“What brings you around here so early?” Dominic asked. The question was mild enough, though Bucky got the distinct sense that he was looking for a certain answer. Bucky took one slice of toast and spread preserves over it, sliding the plate with the final piece over to Mika.

“Just helping Mika with her bags.” he said lightly, giving her a mild glare as she slid the plate back to him. They moved it back and forth a few times before he pushed it even closer to her, staring her down until she silently agreed to take the last slice. 

“How chivalrous of you.” he said, though once again the tone was just a little bit off. Or perhaps he was just imagining it. After all, his social acuity couldn’t exactly be trusted. He didn’t answer, instead just finishing his breakfast. Dominic had finally gotten his coffee and moved to the couch, sprawling across it and somehow managing to take up the whole thing even though it could be shared by two people comfortably, or three in a pinch. Mika was eyeing him, but didn’t say anything, instead just focusing on her coffee.

“Weren’t you planning on making a tart?” Bucky asked Mika quietly, gesturing with his head towards the half eaten peach in Dominic’s hand. She shrugged, idly turning her mug around in her hands.

“I can always make an apple one.” she replied casually. To him, it was obvious that she was pretending not to be troubled by it. But he wasn’t completely sure that she realized how much it seemed to bother her. Especially since she commented on how sweet the peaches were that week, and how she wouldn’t have to use so much sugar. She’d not commented on the apples.

“What are these?” Dominic interrupted, picking up a box on the coffee table. He laid the peach pit directly on the surface, not bothering to put a napkin under it. The thought of the stickiness left behind gave Bucky a weird sensation between his shoulder blades. The box had a beautiful coastal picture, so stunning it took a second for him to realize it was a drawing.

“Oh, Nicoletta’s new job. She sent me some of the first batch.” Mika replied, pride coloring her voice. She always spoke so affectionately of her younger sister, even though they tended to squabble like old maids when they were together. In the few times they’d interacted, he found Nicoletta to be tremendously bright and charming. He had a younger sister once, he knew, but she’d been very different, and he wasn’t sure what had become of her. Dominic let out a scoff, dropping the box back onto the table. Bucky immediately bristled. 

“Fucking postcards?” he asked, as if that were something to be ashamed of. Mika sat up a little straighter, her fingers gripping the mug a little tighter. She could make fun of her sister, but no one else was allowed to. That’s how it worked. “I thought she was supposed to be an artist?”

“Well, artists still have to pay bills too.” she said tightly. He made a noncommittal noise, pulling out his phone and preoccupying himself with it. With his attention turned away she deflated again, her gaze falling to her coffee cup. No, Bucky did not like Dominic one bit. But he was someone to Mika, and if he was going to be sticking around for a little while (his current presentation did not match her words from earlier) then he would just have to get used to him. Didn’t mean he had to spend extra time with him.

“I’ve got to go. Hans wants to start serving something called ‘brunch’ on the weekends.” Bucky said. Sure, he still had another hour until he had to be at the pub, but he needed some decompression time after dealing with...whatever this was. Mika looked sad at his words, but smiled warmly still, holding her arms open to him. He stepped close, allowing her to pull him into a hug, his right arm barely resting around her waist. 

“Have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked hopefully. She was still turning her cup in her hands; a nervous tell. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Of course.” he replied, which made Dominic look up from his phone.

“What’s tomorrow?” he asked. Bucky wondered if he meant for his tone to sound like it had ulterior meanings, or if was just how his voice worked. Mika smiled, swinging her legs slightly as she said,

“We’re finally starting  _ Star Wars _ !” She was very excited for this day. They’d finally finished  _ Harry Potter _ , which had been much more intense than he’d anticipated, and now she’d deemed him ready for the popular science fiction franchise. 

“You’ve never seen  _ Star Wars _ ?” he asked, but it wasn’t it the surprised way Mika had asked him all those months ago. This felt more judgemental. Bucky really wanted to roll his eyes, but held himself back.

“Been busy.” is all he said, moving to the door. He didn’t want to continue this interaction any longer. “Nice to meet you.” he said, to which Dominic simply replied by holding up his coffee cup in salute. He gave Mika one last smile before letting himself out, going across the hall to his own apartment. His finds from the market still sat in the doorway, begging to be organized. He carefully put them all away, trying his hardest to tone down his super hearing so that he couldn’t understand the loud conversation going on next door. Eventually it toned down, and he could hear nothing but the television by the time he left for the pub. 

Brunch, as it turns out, was rather popular. He’d Googled typical recipes for it, trying his best to offer a variety of options. It was definitely different than cooking lunch or supper; his breakfasts mainly consisted of oatmeal and vegetables and coffee, which weren’t the most popular choices. But based on Hans’ smiles and the mostly empty pans in front of him, it was a rousing success. They shared some of the extra food and some drinks he called “mimosas” left over during a lull in the afternoon, and Bucky decided that yes, he quite liked the idea of brunch. The evening hours were busy as usual, the time flying by as he cooked up a storm. Since they opened a little earlier, Hans said they could close up an hour or two earlier than usual. Good, that would give him more time for his neighborhood rounding. 

He was just cleaning up the last of the pans when Hans slipped into the kitchen, groaning and rubbing his face with his hands. Bucky slowed the motion of his sponge, trying to figure out how to best respond to this situation. Mika usually just started babbling about any problems she had; he was still figuring out everyone else in his life.

“Something wrong?” he asked, deciding this was the best approach. Casual, open ended, let him do all the talking. Good move. Hans groaned again, dropping his hands.

“I just...I try not to hate people, you know? But sometimes they can be so…” he made an aggressive choking motion with his hands. Did he need Bucky to choke someone? It wasn’t the most efficient way to end a life, but he’d done it before. He was really hoping he wouldn’t have to do it again. “...infuriating.”

“Someone specific? Or everyone out there?” Bucky pushed. Fighting one person was much different than fighting a group. Maybe “doorman” was also an unspoken part of his job. Hans shook his head.

“No, just the two  _ chuckleheads _ out there causing problems.” he said. He let out a sigh, crossing his arms across his chest. “Honestly, I can barely tolerate Alexei when he’s on his own. But anytime he gets around Dominic…”

“Oh, so Dominic’s still here?” Bucky asked curiously. So much for Mika’s resolve. He kind of wanted to laugh at the situation, but a bigger part of him was...nervous? Angry? He couldn’t quite decipher the feeling rolling around in his stomach. He chose to ignore it for now, hoping he and Mika could help him unravel it later. Hans’ jaw dropped at the question.

“Wait, you met Dominic? You knew he was here?” he asked incredulously. Bucky didn’t understand why he was so surprised. After all, he and Mika were best friends, and lived next door to one another. It wasn’t that big of a leap.

“Yes. Met him this morning.” he answered, hoping to gain some clarification. Hans shook his head a few times, blinking rapidly. It seemed like he was completely befuddled by this revelation.

“He was at Mika’s this morning? And you were okay with it?” he questioned further. Why wouldn’t he be okay with it? Besides the obvious unknown man staying within a stone’s throw from his own home...though, as he’d thought many times before, the likelihood of Mika meeting and befriending  _ two _ super soldiers was slim to none.

“Yes?” he replied, his statement coming out as more of a question. Hans’ bewilderment only seemed to increase the more he elaborated, which only served to bewilder Bucky as well. 

“Oh, I just - I thought - I mean - you two aren’t - you -” Hans’ stammering was saved by Elena kicking in the door, the handle making a loud bang as it hit the wall behind it. Her curly hair seemed bigger and wilder than usual, as did her striking blue eyes.

“Bucky! How could you let this happen?!” she exclaimed. Bucky grabbed the nearest knife, flipping it over in his hand and preparing himself. This was it, the moment he’d been fearing. He didn’t know what was waiting for him out in that pub. Was it Hydra? Shield? Relatives of one of his victims? He was shaken from his waking nightmare by loud cries of surprise. Perhaps he had misread the situation.

“Wow.” Hans breathed before clearing his throat and shaking his head. Elena was nodding, though Bucky wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with.

“Yea, gonna unpack that vision later. When I’m by myself.” she murmured. She took a deep breath, shaking her head and trying to remember why exactly she came to find him in the first place. He saw the moment where it returned. “But I digress. Let’s return to the original issue. How did this happen?”

“I’ll, uh, need you to be a little more specific.” Bucky said. After all, he’d done a lot of questionable things over the years. His nerves buzzed as he waited for her answer.

“Dominic, of course!” she said, as if the answer were obvious. Both of them were staring at him like he was missing the biggest piece in some puzzle. But he wasn’t sure what the big picture was.

“What’s wrong with Dominic?” he asked. Sure, he seemed arrogant, and a little selfish, and perhaps borderline rude, but besides that he didn’t see why Hans and Elena would be so alarmed by his arrival. Hans threw up his hands at the question, and Elena rolled her eyes dramatically.

“He’s literally the fucking worst!” she said, her voice much louder than it needed to be. “He’s horrible! You can’t let him be around Mika.”

“As in, he’ll hurt her?” he asked. He suddenly had memories of guys that he used to know, men who became other people when they were angry, or had been drinking, or if their girl looked at someone else for too long. His blood started to simmer, and he had to take slow, measured breaths to keep himself from charging into the pub and breaking Dominic’s neck.

“Yes! He’ll break her heart again!” she replied. That was it? A broken heart never killed anybody, at least that he knew. And he’d broken pretty much everything in his body at some point or another. If he was going to put her in harm’s way, he would have no choice but to intervene. Matters of the heart? That was outside his scope of practice.

“Mika’s a grown woman. She can handle that on her own.” he said. He realized he was still gripping the knife, and returned it to its place so he could continue cleaning the pans in the sink. His two companions scoffed loudly.

“No she’s not, and no she can’t.” she said, leaning all her weight on one hip and placing her hands on them. “Any time he comes around, she turns back into the self-conscious, insecure mess that she was the first year at university. She’s not herself, not her real self. And she refuses to remember all the shitty things he’s done to her just because he says he’s changed.”

“Maybe he has.” Bucky pointed out, though based on what little he’d heard, that didn’t seem true. But it was not his call. He did not have a say so in who Mika did or did not choose to spend her time with. Elena made another theatrical gesture and Hans turned and let his head fall against the wall with a loud  _ thunk. _

“Third time is not the charm, Bucky.” she said. She sounded both tired and concerned, which Bucky could understand. Elena was usually all fireworks and fanfare; he’d never met anyone so energetic in his life. But here, she was showing her serious side, a side that he didn’t think existed. He could see how much this weighed on her, how much it worried her - both of them. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Bucky promised. And he meant it. Mika was his friend, and if she needed his help, then he would give it. But he also was not in a position to give any sort of personal advice beyond what he’d already given. He would just run reconnaissance. Monitor the situation. Intervene if necessary.

“How can you be okay with this? With her being with...him?” Elena asked, and Bucky got the distinct impression that she wanted to ask her question another way. He just didn’t know what way that was. Or what she meant by this one.

“I don’t understand the question.” he said. Her expression changed again, this time to one of sadness.

“Oh, Bucky. You dumbass.” she said, shaking her head in a pitying manner. He was taken aback by this response, but he didn’t have time to question her further. A loud crash sounded from the pub, and Hans shot up like a prairie dog. Loud laughter bubbled underneath the door, which somehow made it worse. He sighed loudly.

“I need to go...deal with that.” he said, and somehow all three of them knew who was involved in the ruckus.

“I’ll help.” Elena agreed, holding the door open for him. She waved as they exited, the volume in the pub loud until the door shut behind them. Bucky hesitated for a moment, the muffled sounds of Hans’ yelling feeling louder than they were. He finished cleaning the pans and put them in their spot before picking up his backpack and going to the back door. There he paused again, listening to the situation on the floor, which didn’t seem to be quieting. With a sigh, he put his bag down.

Might as well start gathering his information now.


	22. Bad Fishing Analogies

It wasn’t that Dominic was a bad guy, not really. He just talked too much during movies. And got too rowdy at the pub. And considered everyone’s food his own. And interrupted Mika whenever she was talking. It was the last one that pissed Bucky off more than anything. 

It started out slow - he’d be there one weekend night, maybe two. He was always gone by Monday. But then he started coming around on Thursday nights, and not leaving  _ until _ Monday. And then, it seemed like he was there more often than he was not. The good thing was, at least they seemed to have adjust their schedules so that he no longer heard anything  _ explicit _ through the walls. Except for, of course, the intermittent arguing. He’d been putting off learning how to use the music application on his cell phone, but with the drama going next door, he made quick work of it. Once he was sure the fighting never turned physical, he figured he should give them their privacy. 

Hans and Elena, of course, continued to voice their concerns loudly and often. And he understood where they were coming from, somewhat. But Mika was also voicing her concerns, most of which seemed to be how upset her friends were with her. It hurt her, he realized, that they were not supportive of whatever this relationship was. And the less supportive they were, the more time she spent with Dominic. He didn’t understand why they didn’t see this vicious cycle. So even though he really didn’t like Dominic, he did like Mika, so he tried his best to spend time with them. Drama did not concern him. He had few friends in this world, and wanted to maintain them.

Across the apartment, his phone buzzed on the countertop. It was a longer vibration than usual (thank God Mika had finally turned off the ringer), meaning someone was actually calling him for once. Very few people had his number, and even fewer called. It was all about these text messages nowadays, apparently. Nicoletta’s name shone from the screen, which surprised him; usually if she contacted him, it was either to show him a picture of a cute animal, or to ask him to tell Mika to answer her phone. With his brows furrowed, he swiped the screen to answer it.

“Hello?” he said, trying to control his heart rate and breathing. Just because she was calling instead of texting did not mean there was something wrong. 

“Hello, darling! How are you?” she sang in German. As affectionate as Mika was, her sister was even more so. He smiled, even though she couldn’t see him; he barely remembered his own younger sister, but he liked to think that she was as sweet as Nicoletta.

“Good, dearest. And you? Is everything okay?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, his brain switching as he used the other language. If something was amiss, he needed to know immediately so he could rectify the situation. 

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me that.” she said, her tone hesitant. It made him more nervous. “Mika’s mentioned Dominic a time or two recently. I assume you’ve met him?”

“I have.” Bucky said lowly, and he was unable to hide the distaste in his voice. He was hoping he could at least keep his tone neutral, but he couldn’t hide his true feelings from her. She made an understanding noise.

“Right. So I have to ask, is Mika okay? Things have been busy the past few weeks so we’ve been playing telephone tag. I’m just, you know, worried is all.” she explained, chattering away. It seemed the rambling was a Corsof family trait. 

“Nothing seems terribly wrong.” he responded, trying to keep everything neutral. The last thing he wanted was to somehow turn Mika’s sister against her as well. “Hans and Elena are not happy.” 

“Has Elena told you the whole story? I’d be surprised if she hadn’t.” she asked, and from her voice he could tell the ‘whole story’ wasn’t pretty.

“She’s given me the highlights.” he answered. He expected Nicoletta to know just as much information about the relationship as Elena, but he did not want to take the chance at divulging anything that was supposed to be kept in confidence. Besides, Mika’s business was her own. He would not go spreading rumors; he would present the only truth he had first hand. Mika had been quieter than before, and her smiles didn’t seem as bright. She was late almost every Saturday morning, seeming tired and hungover. He knew she liked to go out and partake, but when he saw her in the pub now it didn’t look like she was having fun, especially after seeing how joyful she was on her birthday. “I cannot speak to if things are different this time, but I do know she seems different than before he returned.”

Nicoletta heaved a heavy sigh, and in his mind’s eye he could see the sad expression on her face. “Every time I think she’s finally let him go, he somehow finds his way to weasel back into her life.”

“If everyone thinks he’s so horrible, why does she go back to him?” he asked, finally vocalizing the question that had been plaguing him for weeks. He couldn’t trust Elena or Hans’ opinions; they were too hot-headed, too dramatic. And while Nicoletta was certainly in tune with her emotions, he felt he could trust her opinion. Plus, she probably knew Mika the best out of all of them. 

She gave a dry laugh before responding. “You’ll have to ask her, I can never get a straight answer.”

“What’s your hypothesis, then?” he questioned further. Now that he was talking to her, his curiosity was piqued. This time, her laugh was an amused one.

“It’s still gossip, even if you use the word ‘hypothesis.’” she said, still giggling. He rolled his eyes, but remembered she couldn’t see him. Luckily, she continued with her answer. “I honestly don’t think she means to. I think she thinks it’s gonna be just a nice catching-up, or a one time thing. But he can be charming and funny when he wants to be...as well as a little bit manipulative. And she knows better, she does. But sometimes it’s easy to fall in with what’s familiar.”

He thought of his habits before he met Mika, how he had the same schedule and regiment every day. He was so resistant to her friendship at first, so averse to changing his routine. He could certainly understand sticking with what was familiar. He hadn’t considered it with interpersonal relationships, but it made sense. You stuck with the people you knew. After all, he knew he used to get into fights all the time for Steve, who had been like a brother to him. Granted, Steve was not a rude and insufferable jackass, but Bucky could understand the sentiment all the same.

“That makes sense.” he conceded, figuring that would be the end of the conversation. But Nicoletta proved him wrong.

“What we need to do is find her someone better.” she said, which confused him. Why was it their job to find her a romantic partner? The choice was ultimately up to her. “You know, someone funny and smart and who treats her right. Someone who will support her and love her like she deserves.”

“You are aware I have approximately two and a half friends besides you, right?” he said lowly, and though he phrased it as a joke, he was very serious about it. Mika and Hans were his friends; Elena...it varied by the day. And how much alcohol she’d had. Nicoletta gave a loud sigh on the phone.  
  
“Dumbass.” she said before laughing at her own joke. He gave a low chuckle as well.

“You’re not the first one to call me that recently.” he said, though he still didn’t understand what they meant by it. He didn’t ruminate on it long, as he figured they would explain it to him one of these days. Or, he may just let it go as one of life’s great mysteries.

“Seems there’s a running theme in that building then.” she said, and he figured she was referring to her sister. “Alright, well, I’ll stop bothering you about Mika’s love life. Please look after her for me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. Are you visiting soon?” he asked. The question came easily, and he didn’t even feel like he was having to pretend to be polite. 

“Not until the end of November, so just another what, six weeks?” she replied. “Oh! I found this wonderful new coffee the other day. I’ll bring you some, you must try it.”

“I look forward to it.” he said with a laugh. Nicoletta was always so excited about life. How he wished to have her positivity. “Have a good day.”

“You too!” she replied. They exchanged goodbyes and he ended the call, staring at his phone for a moment longer afterwards. If even Nicoletta (the most positive person he knew) was worried, perhaps he should be a little more wary, a little more concerned. He’d been sitting on the sidelines when it came to Dominic, but perhaps it was time for him to become a little more active in this scenario. Hans and Elena certainly meant well, but Nicoletta? He trusted her more than either of them. And if she had a bad feeling about Dominic, then he would listen to her.

The conversation followed him the rest of the day, and he found himself almost hoping that the two of them would come to the pub that night. All the observation he’d done over the past month or two told him the relationship was dysfunctional at best, but it didn’t seem harmful. Then again, he wasn’t exactly an expert on relationships these days. His shift seemed to go slower today, and he was frustrated that he couldn’t pick out their voices amongst the many out on the floor. When the clock finally ticked past ten, he quickly cleaned and organized everything for the next day, leaving the packages of leftovers for himself and Hans in the refrigerator. He filled his cup of coffee, and with a sense of a mission he stepped out into the pub. 

The usual suspects were in their corner, the conversation more lively than usual. He slipped through the crowd, glad that Elena spotted him and moved over in the booth, giving him room to sit across from the subjects in question. Everyone made their hellos as he joined them, and the momentary warmth at the welcome distracted him from the matter at hand. Mika even reached across the table, squeezing his fingers and giving him an affectionate smile despite the glare from Dominic. Oddly, Alexei was also giving her a suspicious look from the corner of his eye. He filed that tidbit away for later.

“Bucky, mate, we have excellent news.” Jonas said, reaching across Elena and clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Maria’s finally realized that she deserves better?” he quipped, settling into the seat as the laughter ran around the table. 

“No!” he replied, as if his joke wasn’t funny. Maria patted his arm in a consoling manner, and Bucky noticed a new piece of jewelry shimmering on her hand.

“Well Bucky, you already turned me down, so I’m afraid I had to settle for him.” she said, laughing at her own joke as Jonas tried and failed to shake her off his arm. He then turned his sights on Bucky.

“That’s rude, but I’ll ignore it, because we’re getting married!” he said, no longer able to hide the grin on his face or the excitement in his voice. Maria’s smile was massive as well, and she took a moment to kiss his cheek as their friends cheered again. Bucky smiled, lifting his coffee in a toasting gesture towards them.

“Congratulations. Every happiness to you two.” he said, taking a sip from his drink before setting it on the table. 

“It’s on New Year’s Eve, so make sure you clear your schedule.” Maria said, giving him a stern look and a wag of her finger. He held up his hands in defense.

“I don’t know. I’m very busy and social. You know this.” he replied, earning a laugh from the couple.

“Well pencil us in, we’d love to have you there.” Jonas added, and Bucky nodded in response. New Year’s Eve was still a couple months away; he either had enough time to ready himself for a wedding, or to think of a good excuse to get out of it. The chatter resumed amongst the friends, and he was glad to have the attention moved away from him. He moved his eyes at random between everyone at the table, pretending to be interested in the conversation. Mika was actually participating, but Dominic kept talking over her, even more so than usual. He watched as it kept happening over and over until she was talking less and less. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed this, but it was the first time it seemed so obvious. He wondered if anyone else saw it too. 

“Think that could be us someday?” Dominic murmured to Mika, so quiet that Bucky could only hear it thanks to his advanced senses. He gestured over to Jonas and Maria, where Maria was admiring her new hardware. Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes from flitting over to them, looking away as soon as he spotted Mika looking at him. From his periphery, he could see her smile, though her body did not display amusement.

“Not hardly.” she said, her tone very dry. He moved sharply away from her for a moment, and it was killing Bucky not to look directly at them. 

“What?” he asked, and while he tried to sound hurt, Bucky was not sure it sounded genuine. She sighed, shaking her head.

“Let’s not talk about this right now.” she said. Even her voice didn’t sound as lively as it once did, but perhaps he was just imagining that. Dominic moved closer, putting his arm around her shoulders and his face close to her. Since he was using his peripheral vision, he couldn’t tell if his lips were at her ear or her neck.

“We could go home then…‘talk’ about it.” he said, his tone suggestive and his sentence left hanging with an unspoken question. Mika shrugged him off, moving away from him and pushing his chest with her hand.

“Stop it. We’re here to celebrate Jonas and Maria.” she said lowly, and he could tell that she was irritated. Dominic did not heed her mood, instead trying to move close to her again.

“Exactly. We can go and celebrate love and happiness and-” she interrupted him by pushing him away again. Dominic paused, and Bucky actually held his breath as he waited for his response. He leaned towards her once more. “C’mon, love, don’t be like this-” 

She pushed him again. “Stop. It’s not about us right now. Besides, I need to go to bed at a decent hour, I have to get up early tomo-”

“Right, right, you have to get up early for your precious gym time.” he said, his exasperation briefly shining through before he covered it up again. He smiled, smoothing his face into its usual charming facade. “If that’s the case, all the more reason for us to leave now.” 

He could see her resolve waning, but not because she wanted to go. It seemed more like she just wanted him to quit pestering her, and leaving was the only option she could see. This was it. This was when he needed to step in, intervene. Sure, it had been over seventy years since he’d been in any sort of relationship, but he knew she wasn’t just playing a game or flirting. She did not want to go, but she was tiring of saying no. She needed outside assistance, reinforcements. He knew plenty of men like Dominic, back in the day. And there was only one way to distract them from women - free alcohol.

“Next round is on me. Shots?” he said, standing up and looking for affirmation from each person in turn. They all agreed with much enthusiasm, though Mika gave him a curious look. Jonas and Maria requested vodka, which he absolutely abhorred, but would stomach for the sake of saving Mika’s night. He went to the bar, asking Hans for an entire bottle and eight shot glasses. The bartender gave him an odd look, slowly pulling out what he requested. “What?”

“What’s your plan here?” he asked in return, though he continued to place everything on a tray for him. He’d never seen Hans so suspicious of him. He gave a nonchalant shrug, though his nerves were buzzing and his mind whirring as he tried to plan for every possible outcome. He was trained to adapt during missions, but flying blind like this was not ideal. It would have to do.

“Not sure yet.” he replied honestly, picking up the tray and bringing it back to the table. He was met with more sounds of jubilation as he arrived and passed out the glasses, breaking open the bottle and pouring the round. 

“But you hate vodka.” Mika pointed out as he filled the glass in front of her. He shrugged, prepared to answer that it was for Jonas and Maria, not him. Of course, Dominic had to get his two cents in first.

“That’s just cause he’s a little bitch.” he said in a matter-of-fact manner. The table was quiet for a moment, surprised at his aggression. Dominic wanted to believe that he was in charge, and if Bucky pushed back too hard, then things would get out of hand. Yes, he knew exactly what kind of man he was. And exactly how to handle him.

“Lived off vodka and potatoes for a couple months once. Haven’t cared for it since.” he said, raising his glass and shifting the attention before he could respond. “To Jonas and Maria.” 

The group echoed a ‘cheers’ before taking back the shot. Bucky bit back a grimace; he hadn’t had vodka since 1988, and after tonight he was never going to have it again. He lounged against the back of the booth. Of course, the vodka would have no effect on him besides mild annoyance, but Dominic didn’t need to know that.

“Figured you’re a bit of a lightweight. We never see you drink anything but coffee.” he remarked. Good, his attention was away from Mika. Step one complete. Now to keep his attention.

“Alcohol doesn’t do much for me.” he said with a shrug, gazing cooly at him. It was technically the truth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mika staring at him, but he didn’t dare look away from her companion. He needed him to take the bait. 

“Well, let’s have another then.” he said, leaning forward and filling the two glasses in front of them before offering the bottle around. Their friends mostly all declined, and Bucky could see that most of them felt uneasy. Alexei was the only one who accepted another shot. 

“Maybe let’s not.” Mika said, laying her hand on Dominic’s wrist. He shook it off. Good, he was biting. 

“It’s just one more.” he said, his eyes going to Bucky. There was a glint of a challenge behind them. Bring it on. “Unless you think your BFF here can’t handle it.” 

Bucky let his eyes shift over to Mika at that point. He couldn’t tell if her expression was confused or intrigued - or perhaps it was annoyed, and he just wasn’t reading it correctly. She kept her eyes on his as she said confidently, “I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” The corner of her mouth quirked up in a smirk, and as he grinned back at her, it felt like it did before Dominic arrived. Dominic looked between him and Mika, and his expression showed that he clearly did not like this exchange. Bucky picked up the glass in front of him and held it up for a moment before downing its contents. His annoyance grew; vodka was the worst. Dominic gave him a triumphant smirk, and he replied with another shrug. He was not the one who would be having trouble in the morning. 

Bucky leaned over and asked Jonas and Maria a question about the wedding planning, effectively turning the conversation back to them. And while Dominic kept his eyes on him, at least the rest of their friends were enjoying their time again. The bottle of vodka stood proudly on the table between them, its contents slowly diminishing as Dominic kept up the unspoken challenge. Each time the glass in front of him filled, Bucky easily drank it, his attention never faltering from the other people at the table. And while he sat, dutifully socializing, his opponent became drunker and drunker. His exclamations that were loud an hour ago were now slurred mumbles, and he couldn’t hide the anger in his eyes as his competitor appeared to be fine. But as Dominic got more upset, he noticed Mika did as well. She kept trying to stop him from pouring more, but he shrugged her off and ignored her protests. She looked to Bucky to stop as well, but how could he? If he stopped, then Dominic would want to leave, and the whole point was to give Mika this time with her friends. 

“Okay seriously, that’s enough.” Elena chimed in as Dominic went to reach for the bottle again, his hand falling short. It took a moment for his eyes to find her, and another few moments for him to scoff.

“We gotta have a winner.” he slurred, and next to him Mika’s face turned red in embarrassment. Elena leaned against the table, her expression beyond annoyed.

“You’ve lost.” she said shortly, her patience beyond thin. Mika pressed her lips together, her gaze falling to her lap. She was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. For the first time that night, Bucky realized his plan may not have been a good one. Dominic let out a loud  _ pfft _ noise, his spit spattering across the table.

“Not technically.” he said slowly. Mika put her hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe we should leave now.” she said quietly, trying to be discreet. He threw her hand off of him, his eyes half closed and his face slack for a moment as the dizziness hit.

“I don’t wanna leave.” he said in a childish manner. He tried to lean close to her, but instead collapsed against her. She made a disgusted face, pushing him upright again as he stage whispered, “I’m this close to winning.”

“Here. Let me end this.” Bucky said, reaching for the bottle. Mika gave him a hard look.

“Bucky…” she said, a warning in her tone. He gave her a half smile, trying to show that everything was going to be okay. Her expression did not change. He filled the glass in front of Dominic, who looked like he was going to be sick just by looking at it. Then, instead of filling his own glass, he lifted the bottle straight to his lips and drained the last third of it, his eyes never leaving the man’s across the table from him. Dominic’s jaw dropped as he watched, his disbelief evident and Bucky lightly sat the bottle back on the table. He was quiet for a long moment before saying,

“I think I’m going to throw up.” He got up, stumbling around the pub before he found the front door. Bucky looked from the closing door across the table to Mika, but she did not look happy, or grateful. No, her expression was pissed, and maybe a little disappointed.

“Thank you. Now I get to go deal with that.” she said shortly, sliding out from the booth and going outside. Bucky was confused; he’d gotten her what she wanted. She wanted Dominic distracted, and she wanted to stay with her friends. But as his sensitive ears picked up the sounds from outside, he realized that he may not have considered the long term ramifications of his actions.

“My new hero.” Elena said, patting his back and grinning. He turned to her, wincing slightly.

“I may have fucked up.” he confessed, making her burst out laughing.

“Oh, you did, royally. But it was worth it to make that asshole suffer.” she replied. With Dominic gone, the air around the table felt lighter, and Bucky realized how much they disliked the man. They all loved Mika, but did not make a move to go help her outside. With a sigh, he stood up from the booth, confusing Elena. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To clean up my mess.” he replied with a heavy sigh, leaving them and going out the front door. Dominic and Mika were a half a block away, with him leaning against a lamp post and vomiting onto the pavement while she rubbed his back in a comforting manner, even though her face was turned away so as to not see or smell the situation in front of her. He purposefully allowed his boots to make noise on the pavement, alerting her to his arrival. She turned to him, and when she saw who it was, her face hardened into an angry expression.

“Come out for round two? Maybe with everclear this time?” she asked coldly. Oh yea, he messed up big time. He felt his cheeks warm, the heat creeping up the back of his neck as well as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at the concrete. He deserved that.

“Came to help.” he said quietly. She positively swelled in anger, her eyes so fiery that he actually took a step back.

“ _ Help _ ?!” she exclaimed. Next to her, Dominic tried to sit down precisely where he’d been sick moments before. She grabbed him by his shirt, directing him to the other side of the lamppost. She made sure he was seated and leaning against the metal pole before rounding on him again, marching up to him and crossing her arms over her chest. “What were you thinking, Bucky? Can you - oh my god - can you even  _ get _ drunk?”

“Technically, no.” he admitted. He didn’t know why he was surprised that she put two and two together; with his regenerative capabilities, the alcohol was metabolized too quickly for him to feel its effects. It was one of the worst part of his enhancements, if he was honest. Her eyes somehow got even wider, even more burning.

“Then why would you start that? You knew exactly what you were doing -  _ I  _ knew exactly what you were doing. You were the one-” she paused, suddenly choking on her words for a moment. Her eyes were glassy in the moonlight, and he felt like a Bowie knife was shoved between his ribs and he realized he was making her cry. Again. “You were the one person that was still on my side. I needed you, I was  _ counting _ on you. And you…” 

“You didn’t want to go.” he pointed out, though his excuse sounded feeble even to his own ears. He was the most feared assassin in the past century, and Mika had reduced him to a scolded child. 

“What?” she asked, her voice quiet and disbelieving. It was in this moment that he feared he had screwed up beyond repair. 

“You didn’t want to go with him, didn’t want to…” this time he was the one leaving the sentence hanging, as he couldn’t very well admit that he could overhear his horrendous attempts at seducing her earlier. He saw the muscles clench in her jaw as she shut her eyes for a moment, trying to control her anger.

“I appreciate your concern, but that is between him and I.” she said, her voice cold. This wasn’t like her at all, and it made him uneasy. This was not what was supposed to happen. This was not how this was supposed to go. He shifted his weight, trying to recover in any way.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to look out for you.” he said, his voice quiet. Wrong thing to say.

“‘Look out for me’? Well thank you for that, Bucky, because now I get to spend my night either trying to get him to his apartment, or taking him to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.” she spat out. She was sensitive, defensive. He hadn’t taken that into account earlier, hadn’t considered how Dominic’s state would affect her. The last time he’d miscalculated this badly, he had been punished severely. And while physical torture was not eminent from this interaction, the pain in his chest was almost as bad.

“Let me help.” he said, gesturing towards the man slumped against the post. He wanted to apologize again, but knew that it would do them no good. She held up a hand, effectively staying his movements. A couple tears slid onto her cheeks, and she brushed them away angrily.

“I think you’ve helped enough tonight, Bucky.” she said lowly, her voice wavering with emotions. “You can go now.”

He stood there for a long moment, but she turned away from him and went to check on Dominic. The other man was either groaning or crying, Bucky couldn’t tell. With a sigh, he took off walking back towards their apartments, leaving her behind despite every instinct telling him to stay. She did not want him there, did not want his help.  _ You’ve helped enough _ . He’d gotten too cocky, thinking he finally understood social cues and mores. But he did not know enough. 

The next morning, Mika wasn’t late for their time at the gym. She didn’t show up at all.

  
  



	23. Whatever and Whoever

_ The morning was cold and grey, but the bed was warm and comfortable. He opened his eyes, and for once he felt well rested. There were no nightmares that night, and something told him there hadn’t been for a long time. The early light seemed to make everything muted and quiet, the hardwood floors looking darker and the white sheets dim and soft. It all reminded him of a house he visited once upstate. He rolled over to see his companion still asleep, curled up on her side with her back to him. He couldn’t quite tell what time the clock said it was, but he knew it was almost time for them to get up. He shifted over, carefully gathering her dark hair with one hand and twisting it all together. He laid down behind her, gently tracing his fingertips down her arm, taking in the warmth of her skin. Her breathing changed as his hand came to rest at her hip, his thumb rubbing the area just above the waistband of her underwear. As he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, she reached up and intertwined their fingers, pulling so that his arm was wrapped around her.  _

_ “Morning.” she mumbled. If he lifted his head just a little bit, he could see the morning sunlight glinting off the ring on her finger. The sight still gave him a warm feeling behind his sternum. _

_ “Good morning.” he whispered back, kissing her shoulder again and shifting closer to her. She giggled as he pulled her flush against his chest, holding her tightly. _

_ “Someone’s feeling very awake this morning.” she commented, and he let out a huff of a laugh at her insinuation. _

_ “Physiology. Can’t help it.” he said lightly, kissing up her shoulder to her neck as she laughed again. _

_ “Full of shit.” she sighed, turning over so she was finally facing him. She slipped her arms around his neck, drawing him close to kiss him fully. She sweet scent of flowers mingled with the taste of her lips, the warmth of her skin overwhelming his senses as she rolled to pull him onto her.  _

_ He didn’t know how much time passed before they actually got out of bed, her lazily sauntering to the restroom as he went to the kitchen to make coffee. He knew they needed breakfast, but that could wait. Coffee was more important. He poured the sweet caffeine into matching floral mugs, carefully mixing in sugar and milk to one of them. He’d just finished stirring when she joined him, taking her cup with a warm smile. _

_ They sat on a swing on the front porch, her legs resting comfortably across his lap. The grass was incredibly green, and the landscape reminded him of upstate again. They were quiet for a long time, time which seemed to pass at half speed. Or maybe it had simply stopped altogether. She shifted slightly, getting his attention. _

_ “Think we could have a family out here?” she asked. Her tone was curious, hypothetical. She didn’t push for anything. She never pushed. _

_ “I think we can do whatever you want out here.” he replied, taking a sip from his coffee. It tasted familiar, though he wasn’t sure where he had it before. She smiled again, changing her position so that she was instead resting her chin on his shoulder. _

_ “But what do you want?” she asked. Again, simple and non-judgmental curiosity. He turned to her, her doe eyes gazing up at him as she waited for his answer.  _

_ “I just want to be with you.” he said. She grinned, kissing him once more before resting against him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head before resting his cheek against it. Flowers once again surrounded him as he gazed out over their little kingdom. Happiness, that was what this felt like. _

Bucky woke with a start, but not the panicked, aggressive start that he was used to. He didn’t fly into a seated position, or roll off his mattress to hide behind the couch. He wasn’t sweating, or panting, or tearing at his sheets. No, as he sat up and looked around his dark and gloomy apartment, he didn’t feel the alarm that accompanied his nightmares or the nostalgia that surrounded his dreams that may or may not be memories from his time Before. Confusion was the main feeling, he could figure that much out as he ran his hands through his hair. The cool metal actually felt kind of nice against his hot skin. But there was something else there, a kind of wistful longing that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

He missed Mika. He missed his best friend.

He couldn’t remember the last time he actually missed someone. If he thought about it, the feelings seemed familiar when he thought of Steve in their time with the Commandos. But that had to be a different kind of miss - after all, Steve was right there with him. Just different. He knew at one point he missed his parents, missed his sister, but the sensations were so far removed that he had trouble actually perceiving them. This felt real, and whole, and a little bit painful. Based on his dream (however over the top it was), the emotions ran so deep that they were actually affecting his subconscious. He didn’t like it.

It had been almost a week since he’d seen or talked to her after that fateful night at the pub. After much reflection and a little bit of internet searching, he’d decided that his approach that night had not been the correct one. He got up, grabbing his journal and sitting down on his couch. He idly flipped through the pages, trying to find any information that could help him. What he needed was an apology. Next door, he could hear her up and moving around her apartment; her footsteps were their normal volume, so she must be home by herself. She didn’t turn her music or television on immediately, which meant she was not feeling her best. And that was probably at least partially his fault.

What he needed was coffee and pastries.

He quickly dressed, nearly forgetting to tuck his left hand into a glove before leaving the apartment. He made quick work of the stairs and set off with a purpose to the bakery around the corner. He wasn’t sure what time they opened in the morning, but he hoped that it was early enough. Luckily, the lights were on and the door unlocked when he arrived, the middle aged woman giving him a warm smile as he entered. 

“You’re out early.” she commented, already filling up his customary cup of coffee. Across the room, her teenage son was dousing warm cinnamon buns in frosting, his eyes half closed as he performed his task. 

“Just a bit earlier than usual.” he replied, taking the cup from her. He stayed her hand as she went to punch the numbers into the register. “I’ll be expanding my order slightly. A pumpkin spice latte, and a few of those.” he said, gesturing to the cinnamon buns. She smiled knowingly, going to place them in a box.

“Have some points you need to make, huh? What did you do?” she asked, closing the box and tying an unnecessary pink ribbon around the outside of it. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve learned my lesson.” he said, taking the box from her and handing her a few lei. She gave him a pointed look, measuring out his change and handing it back to him.

“That’s a good lad. The woman is always right.” she told him. He gave her a brief glare, not vocalizing a response before taking the second cup of coffee and carefully balancing it amongst all his parcels. She gave him a cheeky grin and a wave. “Have a wonderful day!”   
  
“You as well.” he said, turning and exiting the shop. He hoped that Mika would still be home when he returned; he didn’t know why she was up this early, as she usually didn’t get to work until mid morning on Fridays. He could feel the warmth of the cinnamon buns through the box as he walked back to the apartments, the first winds of autumn starting to circle through the city. As he walked, he ran through various possible conversations in his head, trying to decide exactly what to say. Sure, he’d apologized for a few things over the past two years since his escape, but this was another animal entirely. He’d not had to repair a personal relationship in a few decades. 

He took the stairs two at a time, trying to reach the top landing faster. He paused once he did, trying to listen through Mika’s door. Her television was on, but it wasn’t playing the news or the early morning variety shows. It was playing that baking program, her comfort show. He could faintly hear the violins. He went through his options once more in his head before stepping up to her door and knocking. Time seemed to slow as he waited for her to come to the door, his heart thumping painfully as he heard her pause for a long while before opening it. Her expression looked hopeful, but her posture was still slightly defensive, closed off. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak first.

“May I come in?” he asked, his mouth suddenly dry and his voice raspy. He cleared his throat, looking away for just a moment before returning his eyes to hers. She eyed the box in his hand.

“Depends. What do you have in there?” she asked lowly, trying to cover up her hesitation with vague humor. He held it out to her, but she did not take it.

“Cinnamon buns. Still warm.” he said, and she waited a long time before plucking the box from his hand. He noticed she was careful not to touch him.

“Very well, access granted.” she said, turning and going inside her apartment and leaving it up to him to follow. She was trying to keep her tone clinical, but he could hear it waver. Perhaps she was as nervous about this as he was. She went to the far side of the kitchen island, keeping an eye on him as he settled across from her. Her expression alternated between cool indifference and looking like she wanted to cry again. She was trying to be tough, but she was failing.

“I owe you an apology.” he said softly, reaching across the island to put her coffee in front of her. He had many things in his life that he needed to atone for, and this was one he could most readily strike from his list. Her face softened, and she held the cup between her hands, trying to soak in its warmth. She shook her head.

“No you don’t. I’m the one who should be apologizing. You were just trying to help.” she said, taking a sip and dropping her gaze to the cup. 

“But I’m sorry for how I went about it. I should have…” he thought for a moment before laughing. “I don’t know what I should have done instead, but I know it should have been something different.

She finally smiled then, letting out a soft chuckle. “Perhaps. But I’ve not been a good friend these past few weeks. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry for snapping at you when you were trying to be helpful.”

He paused for a long minute, a question burning a hole in the front of his mind. He took a deep breath, deciding now was as good a time as any. “Can I ask you something?”

“I think that’s only fair.” she said carefully, but she couldn’t hide her tension. He remembered how quickly she became defensive last time, how she was probably prepared for the worst from him. He tried to think of the best way to phrase his thoughts.

“No judgment, but I’m curious,” he paused. The phrase felt weird on his lips, but he knew from context in her shows that he’d used it correctly. He also meant it, but that was beside the point. “Everyone says that Dominic has wronged you in the past. And that they worry about you. Why stay with him?”

“Have you ever had that moment where everyone is telling you not to do something, so it makes you want to do the thing, just out of spite?” she asked, giving him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her normal sass was not as strong. He thought of his training, and how it still tried to give him orders that he chose to blatantly ignore. He nodded, encouraging her to continue; yes, he knew the feeling of which she spoke. Her smile faded, and she looked back down at her cup, turning it in her hands. “He wasn’t always like this. He used to be very sweet, and caring, and God could he make me laugh...he was there for me at a very difficult time in my life, when I thought I had no one. I think I just always hope that that’s who he’s going to be again. I’ve always believed in second chances, but I think his might have run out. What do you think?”

Oh, no. This was way out of his wheelhouse. Friendship with Mika? Natural. Easy. Things felt normal with her. Her romantic relationships? Too many unknown variables, too many different stimuli and outcomes. Nope. He racked his brain, trying to come up with a proper response. “Does he make you happy?” That was a safe question. Romantic relationships were supposed to make one happy. He was certain that was not something that had gone out of style in the past seventy years. 

Well, he thought it was an easy question, but Mika was silent for a very long time. She put her face in her hands, hiding her eyes as she contemplated. He sipped his coffee, giving her ample time to respond. After what felt like an hour, she ran her hands through her hair and looked up at him, blinking back tears. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “No. He doesn’t.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I have to break up with him, don’t I?”

Again, another question that he was not qualified to answer. Her words from however many months ago came to him then:  _ I can’t complete the puzzle if I don’t have all the pieces _ . He didn’t have all the pieces here. So, he did the next best thing he could think of: support. “Do whatever is best for you. But remember, you deserve happiness.” 

She stood up straight then, her brows furrowed as if surprised by his answer. “What?” she asked. He shrugged. He thought his answer was concise and distinct, but perhaps he needed to expand it. 

“You are the only one who has all the information. So you are the only one who knows what the best move is.” he replied. It seemed obvious to him, but Mika looked like the puzzle was suddenly much more complicated. 

“Didn’t realize I had that much power.” she said, sounding awed. He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re a smart girl. You can do whatever - and whoever - you want. So trust me, do whatever makes you happy. You’ll always have me in your corner.” he joked, and her face split into a bright smile. There she was. She moved around the island, extending her arms out to him for a hug. She wrapped them tightly around his neck, and he hesitated for just a moment before circling his around her waist. He was surrounded by the scent of flowers and the hint of holiday spices, and he sighed into her hair as he pulled her just a little bit closer. Yes, he’d missed her more than he realized.

“I’m sorry for being so awful, Bucky.” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shoulder. He thought of rubbing her back, but refrained. The gesture felt too intimate, and he didn’t want to overstep while she was feeling vulnerable. Their relationship was repaired, and he was sure there would be plenty of time to demonstrate affection at a later date. 

“Water under the bridge, Little Bird.” he murmured, pulling back and giving her a smile. She put her hands on his cheeks, and for a moment he thought she was going to kiss him again. But instead she moved away, going to the counter and slicing bread to go in the toaster. He found himself feeling the slightest bit of disappointment, but that quickly dissipated when he realized that the toast was breakfast for him. Now that the anxiety of the conversation had passed, he noticed that he was very hungry. It felt just as it had before, except somehow like they were closer, their bond stronger. He meant what he said; he would be in her corner, if she ever needed him. Mika had helped him and supported him in ways that she would never know. Even though his attachment and affection went against everything that had been forced into his mind the past few decades, he no longer fought it. What was it he and Steve used to say all the time?  _ Til the end of the line.  _ He hadn’t felt this loyal to someone in a long time.

The feeling continued to the next morning as they made their way to the gym. The air was cool and fresh, telling tales of the changing seasons. A new dawn, a new day. He fought back against her a little harder today, making her really work. She really was getting pretty good, reacting quickly and properly to his advances. She was landing more and more hits on him nowadays, and dodging him more than he anticipated. In a fight, he depended on his size and strength. She wasn’t as strong, but she was quick. Very quick. 

He threw hand after hand, and she blocked shot after shot. He could see her eyes as she kept track of his movements, started trying to anticipate them. Yes, she was improving at a higher rate than he anticipated. He needed to switch it up. He grabbed her wrist, and she successfully escaped his grasp. She expected him to go for her other wrist; instead, he grabbed her ankle, making her tumble to the mat with an  _ oomph _ . He was just about to brag when she shot her leg out, knocking one of his feet out from underneath him and sending him to the floor. With impressive speed, she scrambled on top of him, locking his arms down with her legs. He could escape if he really tried, of course. But he decided not to play the super soldier card.

“I yield.” he groaned, noticing that he was short of breath. Perhaps he was working harder today as well. She let out a whoop, rolling off of him and collapsing onto the mat.

“Mark the day. I finally won.” she said, her victory punctuated by her gasps. She was more tired than usual; the farmer’s market was closed this weekend, so they’d stayed extra long at the gym. After all the mess that she’d been dealing with, she needed it. She needed the extra exercise, and she needed extra time with her friend.

“You certainly did.” he said, sitting up with a groan. “Come on, I’ve got just enough time for breakfast before heading to the pub.”   


“Wait, I need to bask in this victory for a moment longer.” she said, still sprawled out on the mat. He got up and went to their stuff, grabbing her sweatshirt and tossing it onto her face. She let out a disgruntled noise, but sat up nonetheless. “Hey, come on. Let me gloat a little bit. You’re like, a billion times bigger and stronger than me.”

“Not a billion. Approximately six times, I would say. You’re much stronger than you realize.” he said as she pulled on her sweatshirt. 

“Thanks to your awesome work outs, yea.” she said, grabbing her bag. They made their way out of the gym, heading back home.

“So, did you talk to Dominic last night?” he asked, trying to casually ask. She didn’t look at him, instead directing her eyes away. “Mika…”

“I choked, okay? He came over, and I tried to talk to him but he was super drunk so it got nowhere. Today, though. I promise.” she said, trying to justify her inaction. He held up his hands; he wasn’t here to judge, only to support.

“Just looking out for you.” he said, making her heart swell. She linked their arms together, leaning heavily on his shoulder and giving his arm a squeeze. He looked down at her, noticing the smile on her face and the warmth from her hand. It was good to be back in their routine. Back at her apartment, everything seemed normal as she made coffee and toast - normal, that is, until Bucky heard rustling from the bedroom. He gave Mika a vaguely annoyed look, and she gave him a pained expression in return.

“I told you he came over, I didn’t say he left.” she whispered, trying to justify herself. Bucky held up his hands innocently; what she did was her business. “Nothing happened though, I swear, I couldn’t even think about-” she stopped mid sentence, her eyes going wide and her jaw dropping in horror. She was looking behind Bucky, which immediately put him on edge. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t what he saw when he turned around.

Dominic strutted into the living room, in all his pride and glory, naked as the day he was born. “Morning, lads.” he said, not giving a single fuck about Bucky’s presence or Mika’s look of complete and utter dismay. Bucky perked an eyebrow as he walked by, his expression tired and unamused as the other man threw a wink at him.

“Wha - what are you-” Mika couldn’t finish a sentence, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form anything coherent. Red completely covered her face, though Bucky wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger - or, perhaps, both. 

“Breakfast time, yea?” Dominic asked, turning to the coffee maker. Mika snapped back into action then, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him back towards the bedroom. He protested loudly, but she didn’t heed it. 

“No, no. Pants on. I can’t believe-” she shoved him again before turning her back to him, covering her face with her hands. He laughed as he walked back towards the bedroom, not caring at all how ashamed and appalled Mika was. “Oh my God, Bucky, I’m so - so sorry. That was - I can’t even - we didn’t even-”

Bucky knew he promised not to antagonize Dominic, but since the end of their relationship was eminent and he was being a royal jackass first thing in the morning, he decided it was warranted. He gave Mika a mischievous look before downing the rest of his coffee, putting his floral mug on the counter before chiding, “It’s okay. Some guys need to compensate.” 

He didn’t know exactly what happened after that, as he decided to take his leave. He heard Dominic yell something, but the door closed before he made it back into the room. Bucky made quick work of his lock, ducking into his apartment before his adversary could reach him. Once in the solace of his apartment, he let himself laugh fully, in spite of the screaming match that had erupted next door. He didn’t have to use his super hearing to know that Mika was winning.

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?!” she exclaimed, eyes blazing and heart racing. Dominic had the audacity to look offended, which only fueled her rage further.

“A man has a right to be free in his own home.” he shouted back, resting his hands on his hips. He’d managed to get his jeans on, but he was still shirtless. Mika’s anger was so intense she thought she might burst. She never remembered being so angry in her entire life. 

“First of all, you are not a ‘man,’ you are acting like a child!” she screeched. “Secondly, this isn’t your home! This is my home! And you are no longer welcome here!”

“Whoa now, let’s not be hasty.” he said, reaching his hands out to her. She took a step back, maintaining the space between them. His charming smile lost it’s shimmer as he continued trying to recover. “Baby, come on-”

“No. Don’t ‘baby’ me. You and I have a lot of history, Dominic, but it’s time for our story to end. I’m done dealing with your antics and your games and your bullshit.” she said. Now that the words were out of her mouth, she felt calm and confident. She was done. She was finally ready to let go. 

“Mika, please, you know I love you.” he said, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. She twisted and pulled, perfectly executing the move that Bucky taught her over a year ago. His expression hardened, and he reached for her again. She kept slipping out of his grasp, his expression growing more frustrated until she finally pushed his chest, making him stumble back a couple steps. Now, he looked shocked. Mika ignored his look, going to the other side of the kitchen island to put some space between them.

“I fully believe that you loved me at one point. But this right here? It isn’t love, Dominic. It’s settling. And I will not spend the rest of my life periodically settling for someone who treats me like shit.” she said coldly. She was done with this conversation. She was done with him. He came to the other side of the island, bracing his hands on the countertop. 

“Now, Mika, think about what you’re saying. You and me, we’re meant to be.” he said, trying to be smooth. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“No, we’re not. You bring out the worst in me, and for some stupid reason I let you.” she said shortly. “I can do whatever or whoever I want in this life, and I’m tired of dealing with you. Now please get dressed and leave.”

“Fuck!” he yelled, grabbing the nearest thing he could find - which happened to be her floral mug - and throwing it against the wall. Her eyes widened at the outburst; sure they argued a lot, but this was a new development. But instead of feeling scared, like she might have before, she just felt pissed. She knew if she really had to, she could hold her own in a fight. And if she couldn’t, then Bucky would back her up. “So that’s what this is about, huh? Who put you up to this, creepy neighbor man?” 

“Don’t bring Bucky into this, this has nothing to do with him. This is about you, and how I’m done with you.” she said, her voice raising again. She felt like she had Amazonian strength like the girl in the movies that everyone said she looked like. 

“Of course it’s about him! You’re obsessed with him! Going to the gym and the market and having your little movie nights and your breakfast dates. Are you fucking him? Be real.” he snapped, his eyes starting to look a little frenzied.

“He’s one of my best friends, dumbass!” she eyed the broken mug on the floor, then shook her head. “And no, I’m not fucking him. He just happens to make me happy by being a fucking good person, which is more than you can do even with certain advantages.”

“So you  _ want _ to fuck him?” he accused, making her throw her hands up in the air.

“This is not about sex! This is about how I am not happy with you. I don’t want to sleep with you, I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. We. Are. Done. Now leave, before I make you.” she said, marching over to the door and opening it. She held it ajar with her foot, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him until he finally moved towards the opening.

“You’re gonna regret this.” he said, pointing a finger at her. But she wasn’t scared of him, only tired of him.

“Go, Dominic. And please don’t ever contact me again.” she said shortly, waiting for him to pass. He stepped out into the hallway, but immediately turned around, his face aggressive again.

“I gave you fucking everything. Don’t call you? You don’t call me. I don’t want to hear your stupid, insufferable whining about-” he started to raise his voice, but she cut him off.

“About what? About how I want you to respect me? Care about me? Be nice to me? Get out of here. We’re through.” she said, still standing defiantly in her doorway. This was her home, she was her own woman, and she would not budge.

“We’re not through until I say we’re through.” he said, taking a step toward her. They were both distracted by Bucky’s door opening. He tried not to make eye contact, closing his door and going to lock it. Dominic rounded on him. “Of fucking course, your fucking knight in shining armor is stepping up to save you.”

“Just trying to go to work. Sorry to interrupt.” Bucky replied, though he gave Mika a subtle glance. He may be on his way to work, but he was for sure checking on her. Her heart warmed with affection for him.

“Bull shit. You came to get in on the action. Well, this doesn’t concern you.” he snarled, and Bucky simply held his hands up.

“It’s between you two.” he agreed, though Mika noticed that he hadn’t moved. He’d angled himself so that his metal arm was closer to Dominic, just in case. As always, he was looking out for her. For a moment, she wondered what she’d done to deserve such a wonderful friend.

“Damn straight it is.” he snapped, turning back to Mika. “Back inside, let’s talk.”

“We’re done talking. Leave.” she countered, also staying still. She’d bowed to him too many times over the years, and she was done with that. 

“Oh no we’re not.” he said, taking a step towards her. Bucky moved closer as well, and though his face was calm and his voice quiet, his posture conveyed the subtle threat.

“She asked you to leave. Very nicely, I might add.” he said, and somehow his calmness was even scarier than Dominic’s yelling. “I will not be so kind.”

“And what are you going to do about it, eh?” he asked, digging into his pocket. Mika was afraid he was going to pull out something dangerous (even though he never had before), but instead he just fished out his keys, holding up a silver one. “See this? Means I can come back whenever I-”

Before he could finish bragging, Bucky snatched the keys from his hand, using his metal arm to rip it from the keychain and crumple it into a useless hunk of metal. He displayed his work of art for a moment before tossing it down the stairs. “She asked you to leave. Do not make me ask for her.”

Dominic stared for a while, seething. Eventually, he turned back to Mika. “You’re a right fucking bitch, I hope you know that.” he said, flipping both of them off and finally leaving. Bucky moved to the bannister, his watchful eyes tracking Dominic until he finally exited the building. He looked to Mika, who couldn’t quite decide if she was proud of herself or completely overwhelmed.

“Thank you. Again.” she said with a hesitant smile. Her mind was still reeling from everything that happened, but even then she still felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. He stepped closer to her.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asked, his eyes colored with concern. Classic Bucky, always checking on her. Always taking care of her. She shook her head.

“No, no I’m okay. He did break your mug though.” she said sadly, remembering the ceramic pieces on her kitchen floor.

“I’ll kill him.” he replied immediately, making her laugh. She felt the emotions welling up in her throat, tingling behind her eyes. She blinked them rapidly, trying to stop them. “It’s okay to cry.”

“No, it’s not. He needed to be gone. And I’m glad he’s gone.” she said, her voice steady and sure. She was happy with this decision. So why did she still have these feelings?

“Doesn’t mean you can’t cry.” he replied, and he hesitated for a minute before opening his arms to her, initiating the hug for the first time. The gesture was so small, but so welcome, that Mika couldn’t help but dive into his embrace. His arms held her steady, and he whispered calming and encouraging things to her as she let her emotions spill out with her tears and into his shirt. He held her there for a long while until her breathing evened out and her heart settled.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry.” she said, shaking her head and wiping tears and mascara from her cheeks. He grinned, brushing his thumb across a spot that she missed.

“No worries. What are friends for?” he asked. She gave him a watery smile before taking a steadying breath.

“You must be so late to work. Go, or Hans will kill me.” she said, gesturing towards the stairs. Sure, she didn’t really want him to go, but she’d already displayed enough immaturity for the year. She needed to be strong on her own right now. His brows furrowed, as if he didn’t believe her.

“Are you sure? I can call in. Be a little late.” he replied, but she shook her head emphatically.

“You need to go to work, Bucky. I’ll be okay.” she said. When he still looked uncertain, she continued, “I’m going to bake some things, and go for a long run, and tonight I’ll probably get so drunk I can’t remember my own name. But then tomorrow, I will be back and ready to take on the world.”

He grinned. There was the Mika he knew. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I will. Thank you again. For everything.” she said. He nodded, giving her one last look before going off to work. Mika took one last breath, watching as he rounded the stairs towards the ground floor.

She was lucky to have Bucky in her life. Very lucky indeed.


	24. Revelations

Bucky kept a watchful eye at the pub the whole evening, just waiting for Dominic to show up. The entire group wasn’t out tonight; it was just Mika and Elena, chatting away like they hadn’t seen each other in years and knocking back drinks like they were dying of thirst. He stayed with them for the first few rounds, but once he deemed them safe from unwanted advances, he decided his night would be better spent checking the perimeter. He’d neglected this duty for the past few nights, and while he was steadily becoming better and better at ignoring the pull from his training, sometimes he had to indulge it. When Mika was safely past the four drink mark and Elena started trying to sit in his lap, he decided it was time for him to take his leave.

“Will you be alright if I head out?” he asked Mika as Elena traipsed off to the bar. She grinned at him, her eyes already glassy from the alcohol as she gazed at him with a goofy grin. She put her hands on his cheeks and leaned in close enough that he could smell the drink she’d had just moments earlier. 

“I will be just fine. Hans will cut me off if I get too rowdy.” she said, stroking his face with her thumbs. The touch was gentle and warm, and made him feel like a hive of bees was stirring behind his sternum. It was just because they hadn’t spent time together in a week, he told himself. He needed to get accustomed to the stimulus again. He hesitated for a moment before reaching forward and patting her knee.

“Call me if you need anything.” he said, standing up from the table. Mika’s brows furrowed.

“Wait, you’re not going to tell Elena goodbye?” she asked, looking across the floor to see where her friend was. Bucky shook his head.

“You know she won’t let me. She’ll just keep trying to grope me.” he replied, making her giggle. She nodded, grabbing onto his hand to pull herself to a standing position.

“You’re right. She just doesn’t get you like I do.” she said, pulling herself in for a hug. Bucky let himself be surrounded by flowers and her embrace for just a moment before stepping away, giving her one last grin before stepping out into the chilly night. He took his time on his route; with the changing of the seasons, there were multiple new details that he needed to log. Besides the landmarks, he was also starting to learn about the people in the city he recognized from their regular visits to the pub. There was a group of university-aged boys that often came Thursday nights instead of the end of the week, but Bucky discovered that they rented a small town home a few blocks away and apparently housed their own get-togethers on the weekends. The middle aged woman who worked third shift and usually stopped in for a quick drink always walked her dog when she got home. The young couple who had supper at the pub almost every night weren’t a couple at all, but instead coworkers and roommates, though he wasn’t sure exactly what they did for work. 

The deli down the street was now advertising autumn-themed desserts. A few houses had decorations up depicting witches and spiders and pumpkins with faces; it took him a moment to remember that Halloween was near. The clothing store two kilometers northeast was having a sale, and he wondered if Mika knew and if she was going to use it as an excuse and make good on her promise to take him shopping. The church was dark and quiet, but the windows at the Father’s house across the street still shone in the night. He contemplated stopping in to say hello, but decided it was too late at night for a casual call. Perhaps another time. It was well into the morning hours when he finally scanned into his building, so late that even the student on the fifth floor was asleep. He assumed he would be the only one awake at this hour, but as he rounded the halfway point up the stairs he was met with the sight of Mika, sitting on the steps and leaning heavily against the railing. For a moment he thought she had fallen asleep there, but she started giggling as he came into her field of vision, gazing at him through half lidded eyes.

“Thought you said Hans would cut you off?” he asked, unable to hide his smile. Her laughter came out in hisses this time, stopping abruptly as her hand slipped through the bars of the railing and her head smacked the metal. He winced appreciatively, kneeling in front of her and gently turning her head so he could examine it. She groaned, rubbing the offended area with her palm. “I think you’ll live.”   


“Are you sure I’m not concussed? I feel dizzy. And sleepy.” she said, her speech only slightly slurred. He  gave a brief huff of a laugh, brushing her hair away from her face to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. There might be a bit of a bruise, but other than that she was fine. 

“That’s probably the alcohol. Why are you on the stairs?” he asked. He tried to pull her to her feet, but she adamantly maintained her position on the step. She heaved a heavy sigh, ignoring his hints to stand up and instead just holding his hand.

“I was going home...but then I got tired. So I decided to take a little break.” she said lightly, finding a way to lean against the railing without knocking her head into it. He could smell the liquor on her breath, and her eyes were generally unfocused. He’d seen her drunk before, but not on this level.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” he said, taking hold of both of her hands and slowly helping her to her feet. She groaned loudly, turning it down as he gently shushed her. She hung heavily on him, and he was worried that if he let go, she would go tumbling straight down the stairs.

“Sorry.” she whispered before dissolving into laughter again. “Are you taking me home, Bucky? You saucy, saucy man.”

“Someone has to make sure you get in bed.” he replied as they slowly navigated the stairs. That was the wrong thing to say apparently, because she gasped dramatically and laid a hand over her heart.

“You want to take me to bed?” she asked incredulously. She could barely finish the sentence before chuckling at her own joke. He couldn’t help but let out a low laugh as well, amused by how funny she found herself.

“How much did you have exactly?” he questioned, trying to keep her awake and mobile so that maybe they could make it to her apartment by dawn. She paused, looking up and the ceiling and letting out a drawn out  _ uhh _ as she thought. After a full minute, she stopped, making and ‘I don’t know’ noise and gazing at him innocently.

“Hans tried to say no more but Elena - she snuck behind the bar and borrowed a bottle. So, to answer your question, I had exactly too much.” she said, her words surprisingly sharp for her state of inebriation. She went up two more steps, then stopped again, this time looking at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m so drunk. I didn’t mean to be, honest. You don’t have to take care of me, I’ll be fine, I know I’m annoying.”

“You’re fine. By far not the worst drunk I’ve seen.” he replied, gently guiding her so that she continued up the stairs. She sniffled a bit, holding tightly onto his arm.

“You promise?” she said, her voice sounding small. He gently patted her back, trying to give her some sort of comfort. He’d meant his words; he remembered his nights with the Commandos, and how they often started fights or turned into blubbering messes and passed out at their tables. No, she’d at least made it home, and was coherent enough to listen.

“I promise. Now come on, let’s get you some tea and get you to bed.” he said. This seemed to brighten her mood, and she allowed him to lead her up the stairs to her apartment. She leaned against the wall next to her door, clumsy hands digging through her purse in search of her keys. He let her struggle for a minute before reaching his hand out, offering to search for her. She smacked his hand away, continuing her quest until her keys emerged victorious - and immediately fell from her hand and to the floor. She let out a tired sigh, and Bucky bent down and picked them up for her, unlocking the door and pushing it open. She stumbled in, dropping her bag and kicking off her shoes before going to lean heavily against the kitchen island.

“Oh my God, I’m gonna regret this tomorrow.” she said, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. He tried to get her to sit in one of the tall chairs at the island, but now apparently she wanted to stand. He shook his head, going to grab the kettle.

“Thought you didn’t get hangovers?” he asked. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since she’d told him that, the very first night he’d been in her apartment. So many things were different now. She leaned over, resting her head on her forearms and groaning loudly.

“Thought you knew I was bluffing?” she questioned in return, her voice muffled by her position. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin as he filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. Without lifting her head she asked, “Are you making tea?”

“Of course. You’re really going to suffer tomorrow if I don’t.” he replied in a cheeky tone, turning to lean against the counter. She slid herself along the edge of the island until she was on the same side as him, then pushed herself into an upright position just so she could collapse onto him in a graceless embrace. His right arm circled around her waist, keeping her upright as she rested against him. 

“You’re too sweet to me.” she said, hugging him tightly. He gave a short laugh, her head bobbing as his chest moved. She groaned at the movement, and he stifled his amusement. His heart overturned at her words;  _ sweet _ was not a word that he would use to describe himself.

“Full of shit.” he replied. It was the best response he could come up with. She shook her head, burrowing into his sternum. 

“Nope, I mean it. You’re the best friend I’ve got.” she said, moving off of him so she could lean against the counter opposite of him. He lifted one eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest to try and bring back some of the warmth that was there a moment ago. 

“Don’t let Elena hear you say that.” he said, giving her a pointed look. She shook her head again, but stopped abruptly. Her eyes kept moving for a moment, and she quickly put her hands on the edge of the counter to steady herself. She gulped and took a deep breath before saying,

“Oh no. It’s Elena’s fault I’m in this state.” she said. She sighed again, but her breaths were getting shallower, her face a little paler. “No, it’s not her fault, I could have said no. I’m sorry, I definitely had too much.”

“In your defense, you did say earlier you were planning to get so drunk you couldn’t remember your own name.” Bucky said, trying to cheer her up. She gave him a smile that quickly dropped as she took a short, sharp breath. He furrowed his brows, feeling the concern rise in his chest. “Are you alright?” 

“Excuse me.” she replied, turning and crossing her apartment with speed and purpose that he didn’t think she was capable of in her state of inebriation. Moments later, he realized the reason for her focus as he heard her vomiting in her bathroom. He gave a long exhale before filling a glass with water and going to comfort her. Yes, this was beginning to remind him very much of his nights with the Commandos. He paused at the doorway to her bedroom; he’d never been in it, and was afraid to invade her privacy. But he could hear her in the bathroom, hear as she rinsed her mouth and let out her breath in a slow, controlled manner. She let out a strangled sound, and for a moment he was afraid she was either choking or vomiting again. But as she fell against the wall with a  _ thump _ and slid down it to try and control her descent to the floor, he realized she was trying not to cry.

He pushed past his hesitance then, stepping into her room. He tried not to pry too much, but couldn’t help taking a cursory glance before going into the bathroom. Things were lightly decorated in greys and pastels, not unlike her living room. Everything was light, and looked soft and comfortable. He lowered his eyes, following the light to the bathroom to find Mika sitting on the tile, her knees pulled to her chest and her head resting in her hands. She looked up as he kneeled in front of her, her makeup slightly smudged and her eyes struggling to focus as he held the water out to her. Her lips trembled slightly as she took it from him, taking a sip before chugging half the glass.

“You okay?” he asked softly, and she nodded in response. She held the glass back out to him, and he took it and set it next to the sink. She was quiet now, which was unlike her. He didn’t want to bother her if she wasn’t feeling well, but he also didn’t want to leave her alone in case she wanted company. He settled for sitting next to her on the floor, hoping that was the right decision. She didn’t lay her head against him this time, instead focusing closely on her nail polish and trying to pick it off. After a long bout of silence, she finally looked up at him, her eyes ringed with red and wide with an emotion he couldn’t name.

“Can I ask you a question?” she whispered, and his heart jumped with nerves. That was always the most dangerous question of them all, and that was because he knew that he probably would not - or could not - lie to her. The alarms were going off, but they were faint, and he easily shut them down.

“Of course.” he said, trying to make his voice sound confident but settling for neutral. She bit her lip for a second, and he realized she was trying to garner her courage for something. 

“Am I a bitch?” she asked, her voice still soft, vulnerable. She still was looking at him with her sad doe eyes, and he felt like someone had slipped a knife between his ribs. He’d heard once that there was no such thing as a stupid question, but he definitely believed this one was. He would have laughed, if it weren’t for the look on her face. 

“No, you’re not.” he said, and this time it was easy to sound confident. Sure, maybe Mika was sarcastic, and impulsive, and a little bossy at times, but she was far and wide not a bitch. She blinked a couple times, his words slowly sinking in. She tilted her head to the side, and he could almost see the moment when her attention shifted and she found a new subject to breach.

“Why are we friends?” she asked this time, and he felt his stomach turn at such a blatant question. He hadn’t thought about it himself, simply accepting it as his new normal. He didn’t think she questioned it at all.

“What do you mean?” he countered, seeking clarification. Her query made no sense to him, and he didn’t understand why she was wondering about it now. 

“You’re all cool and tough and kind and strong and I’m just...a mess. Why are you friends with me?” she asked it in a different way. This time he couldn’t hold back the low chuckle. It really was funny to him, that she didn’t think he was a mess as well. He was more of a mess than she would ever be. 

“I need someone to get me out of the house and enable my caffeine habit.” he replied, hoping to get a laugh out of her. The likelihood that she would remember this conversation was very low, so the best he could do was put her in a good mood before she finally gave in and went to sleep. She looked at him very seriously, and for a moment seemed to believe this to be his true answer. But then she noticed his smirk, and let out a snort of a laugh. The sound seemed to surprise her as much as it surprised him, and she dissolved into giggles. He continued, “You’re a great friend, Mika. Best friend someone could have.”

“No no, that’s you.” she said, taking his elbow and raising his arm so she could position it around her shoulders. She nuzzled into his chest, holding his hand with both of hers. The cool tile floor was a sharp contrast to her warmth, and while it had been many years since he’d held anyone so close, he felt comfortable. He never thought he’d be in this place again, but she made it easy for him. After a year and a half of friendship, Bucky could safely say that she was the one person that made him feel like he could let down his guard, at least a little bit. He hadn’t felt this close to someone since Steve, but something felt different this time around. He attributed to the brain damage inflicted over and over by Hydra. She relaxed fully against his side, murmuring quietly, “I could just stay right here forever.”

“You’d get hungry.” he said, and while she still giggled, it was quieter, more subdued. The alcohol was catching up to her, and soon she would be asleep. But until then, he didn’t mind sitting with her.

“You’d take care of me. You always do.” she said, squeezing his fingers affectionately. There was a burning behind his sternum that he didn’t quite understand, and he shifted slightly so that she was pulled just slightly closer to him. “Thank you for always being there, Bucky.”

“Anytime.” he said gently, and he meant it with all his being. She pulled his arm further around her, and he felt the desire to press his lips to the top of her head, though he didn’t know wh-

Yes, he did know why. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, his blood turning to ice as the thought circled through his head. His feelings towards Mika were no longer platonic. 

Honestly, he felt like laughing. He’d been so ignorant for who knows how long, assuming that he was incapable of ever having these sorts of feelings. He tried to push the idea away or bury it deep, but it kept resurfacing, kept forcing its way back to the forefront of his mind. He tried to attribute it to the dream he’d had, but he knew it was a weak excuse. This was not something that had developed overnight. 

He was saved from his downward spiral by the kettle in the kitchen whistling. Mika groaned next to him, completely unaware of the internal crisis he was going through. He took a deep breath, gently untangling himself from her and going into the kitchen. His movements were stiff and robotic as he mixed her tea since his attention kept shifting elsewhere. He took the mug back to her bedroom, setting it on the white nightstand next to her bed. When he turned to fetch her, she was already pulling herself to her feet, her movements still slow and a little uncoordinated. She delicately moved towards him, smiling brightly as she spotted the cup on the side table. His heart felt like it was in his throat. She took his hand as she walked by, and electricity seemed to surge through his body. She collapsed onto the edge of the bed, and he was so distracted that she almost pulled him with her. Their faces were close, incredibly close, and he didn’t want to move away, but he did. And instead of pulling her closer, he helped her into bed, pulling the soft grey and teal covers over her. Her dark hair spilled across the white sheets, and he noticed she still hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Goodnight, Mika.” he said softly, her name suddenly feeling different in his mouth even though he’d said it a thousand times before. His feelings were overwhelming him, and he didn’t trust himself to say anything more. She gripped his hand one more time before letting go, reaching instead for her cup of tea.

“Love you, goodnight.” she sang, her attention completely on the tea in front of her. Meanwhile, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut, and he wondered if she knew the weight of the words that she said so lightly. He didn’t answer, instead making sure his movements were slow and controlled as he left her apartment and went into his own.

He felt like his mind was reeling, the energy coursing through him nervous and anxious and excited all at once. He paced around his apartment, trying to get his mind to settle. He didn’t seem able to finish one thought before another interrupted it, and it was making his head hurt. He picked up his journal, determined to organize the wildness going through his head somehow. He gazed at the blank page in front of him for a long time, trying to decide where to begin. He glanced up for a moment, his eyes falling on his sleeping bag on top of his mattress. The whirring in his brain quieted, and he sat up a little straighter. 

Mika’s apartment was light, airy, open, cheerful. But as he looked at his own environment, he saw nothing but a testament to the darkness and paranoia inside him. He took careful steps to his window, pushing aside the gauzy curtains to check the newspaper lining the glass. The seal was still unbroken, dimming the lights from the streetlamps below. He paused, his thoughts becoming more methodical as he ran through the checklist he’d perfected when he moved in here. His next stop was the kitchen, gently prying up the laminate and pulling the backpack from the space underneath. He placed it on the kitchen island, unzipping it and taking inventory of its contents. All the explosives and contingencies he’d stolen were still tucked inside, in the exact positions he’d left time last time he’d checked. He picked up one of the grenades, carefully turning it over in his metal hand. 

He suddenly felt tired, deflated. His very bones seemed to ache with fatigue. This was the reality of who he was, and he wondered if he was foolish to believe he could be anything else. He returned the backpack to its hiding place, placing the flooring back over it. His legs felt like they were filled with lead as he dragged himself to his bed. He didn’t bother going through the motions of his nighttime routine, instead just pulling off his boots. He started to get into the sleeping bag but paused, looking at his hands in the faint light of his apartment. 

These feelings were real, he was positive of that. He’d spent enough of his recent life learning the difference between what was real and what was stuck in head to know that what he was feeling was not manufactured. But still, the concept felt so completely archaic and unfamiliar to him. He knew, logically, that he had to have experienced these feelings before, back before The Fall. But after everything that had happened, after everything he had done, he hadn’t expected to ever feel them again. 

What was he supposed to do about this? He racked his brain, trying to remember something, anything, from his time before Hydra. The word  _ steady _ crossed his mind, but the idea still seemed foreign. How was he supposed to handle this squeezing in his chest, or the turning of his stomach? How was he supposed to look at her when his heart was in his throat at the sight of her? How was he supposed to woo her when his tongue dissolved to ash when he tried to speak?

There was a burning pain behind his eyes that he did not recognize. He put his hands on either side of his head, squeezing slightly. How could he even  _ think _ of being with someone when he had so much blood on his hands? His presence would forever dampen her light, and he couldn’t bear the thought of dragging her down to the depths with him.  He would have to push his feelings down, down so deep that they would not see the light of day, down so deep that they would never cross his mind again. He would pull away from her. That was the only way she ended up safe, and happy, and alive. She did not deserve the boiling mess that was inside him. She did not need to be tarnished by the darkness inside him. No, he would not act on his feelings. In fact, it was probably best if he never saw Mika ever again. 

The conclusion left him with a gaping hole in his chest. Mika had helped him - saved him, really - with her friendship. She’d pulled out the part of him that had been locked away for decades. She’d helped him see past the shadowy corners of the world, past the blood and the death. And he was so, so grateful for that. No, he wouldn’t repay her by smothering that goodness with his own inadequacies. She deserved better than that. 

For a moment, he wondered if he squeezed really hard, if that would be enough to end it. But he shook that thought away. That was not the answer to this problem. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone she had given him, the metal moving oddly against the metal of his hand. He planned to crush it, to make a clean break, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he opened a message to Hans, saying he would have to take a few days of personal leave. Then, he powered the phone down, threw it into the corner, and curled up in his sleeping bag to go to sleep. 

The next morning, Mika woke up with a raging hangover. Well, it was morning to her, though the clock was already ticking towards noon. She’d not felt this horrible after a night out since her second year at university, when she learned better - or so she thought. She groaned as the light from her window hit her eyes, immediately splitting her head in half. She needed water. And ibuprofen. She pulled herself from her bed, spotting her half-full cup of tea on the nightstand. That’s right, Bucky had been with her last night. Her memories were spotty at best, but she remembered him practically carrying her up the stairs, and sitting with her on the bathroom floor. The rest was a little hazy. She picked up her phone, looking at it with one eye closed as she keyed a message to him:

_ Thank you for your help last night. Don’t know what I’d do without you. _

She hit send, trying to get her sluggish brain to come up with a way to repay him for being such an amazing friend to her. She didn’t know what she’d done right recently for the universe to give her such a wonderful person in her life, but she wasn’t sure she deserved it. There was still a half a glass of water on her bathroom sink, and though she wasn’t sure how it got there she sure as hell needed it. She found her bottle of painkillers, taking it with her into the living room. She knew that she needed to eat something, even though her stomach still felt like a rolling sea storm. It was agonizing, waiting for her toast to finish toasting and her large cup of coffee to finish brewing, and she tried to distract herself by taking more food options over to the coffee table. She knew herself, and knew that once she crumpled into its plush, comforting depths, she would not be getting up again. 

A few hours later, Bucky still hadn’t responded to her message, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. He may already be at work, and unable to check his phone. As the sun began its descent, she was still feeling absolutely miserable, and her biggest success of the day was not losing what little food she could stomach. So, with much sadness and regret, she opened a message to him for the second time that day:

_ I’m sorry, I can’t do movie night tonight. I’m currently dying from this hangover.  _

She didn’t expect a response to this one either since he was definitely at work by now, but part of her hoped he would surprise her with some leftovers from the pub. Plus, she could use the comfort of having him by her side. He always had such a soothing presence. But a few hours later there was still no word from him, so she figured he was busy or tired or  _ something _ and went ahead and crawled back into bed. She was bound to run into him at some point tomorrow, whether in the hallway or while he was at work. 

But she didn’t run into him the next day. Or the day after that. He still hadn’t answered any of her texts, and all her calls went right to voicemail. By Wednesday, she started to worry, and checked with Hans to see if he’d been in to work. Her anxiety grew when he told her that Bucky had called in for the week, and hadn’t given an exact time for his return. She knocked on his door morning, noon, and night, but there was no answer. Thursday night, her messages still hadn’t been marked  _ delivered _ , but mysteriously Friday morning, they were. Okay, so he was alive. He was just ignoring her - or perhaps, she rationalized, he was distracted. Perhaps there was some big emergency that had taken him off the grid for a while, and he didn’t have time to respond. Sure, she would have sent a quick  _ I’m okay  _ message, but that was her. Bucky didn’t have the same habits. But she did start realizing signs that he was still next door: the smell of garlic and spices seeping into the hallway, or the creaking of the stairs at odd hours. He was obviously home, but still not responding to her. Her heart sank as she wondered if she’d done something stupid that night, something to make him so upset with her that he completely shut her out. Saturday morning, he didn’t show for their usual plans, which was definitely something he would tell her about. She must have done something  _ really _ awful.

She was at the gym late that night, trying to work off some of her anxiety and clear her mind. She had to figure out how to apologize when she couldn’t even get him to talk to her. Bucky was one of her best friends, and the thought that she had said or done something so irreversibly offensive that he would completely ghost her made tears spring to her eyes and a band tighten around her chest. She walked back to the apartments trying to be calm and rational instead of an overemotional mess, but she was quickly careening in that direction. As she turned the last corner, she spotted a familiar figure in a jacket and baseball cap entering the building, and her heart nearly lept from her chest in elation. He was too far ahead of her to call out to him, but at least she knew he was home.

She took the stairs two at a time, her adrenaline fueling her all the way to the top. She was breathing way harder than she should have been as she knocked on Bucky’s door. She tried to quiet herself, listening for the sound of his footsteps or the turn of his lock. But neither one of them came. She knocked again, this time a little louder. Perhaps he had his headphones in, and didn’t hear the first time. Still no response.

“Bucky?” she called, knocking a third time for good measure. “Bucky, come on, I know you’re in there.” she added, though he still did not come to the door. “Look, if - if there’s something going on, or something happened, I don’t want to pry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” The silence was deafening at this point. “I...I know that I was way too drunk last weekend. And I’m really, really sorry that you had to see me like that. And I know I - I probably said something stupid, or did something stupid, and I’m really sorry-” Her voice cracked at that point as her emotions overflowed. “You’re my best friend, please tell me how I can make it up to you.” 

When there was still no response, she’d resigned herself to the fact that the damage was done. She thought getting back with her ex was the stupidest thing she’d ever done, but this was worse. This was so much worse. The part of her brain trying to protect her heart said that maybe he wasn’t home, maybe she was making this dramatic apology to an empty apartment. But her heart knew the truth: he was hearing every word, but her words weren’t good enough. She took a shuddering breath, and was just shifting her weight to return to her own apartment when she heard his lock click. The air caught in her throat as she waited, her body paralyzed with hope and anxiety as he opened the door just enough for her to see him.

“Oh thank God, you’re okay.” she said, and a weight she didn’t realize she was holding lifted. Even if he was mad at her, at least he was alive. She wanted to launch herself onto him, give him the biggest hug he’d ever received in his life, but one look in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. He looked...not tired necessarily, but worn down. He looked like every burden of the human race was on his shoulders. Her heart went out with him, and she felt the crippling guilt as she wondered what exactly she did to make him look that like. Her voice was shaky and hesitant when she finally spoke again. “I’m really sorry, about last weekend. I was completely out of line, and I’m so sorry that I was not a good friend-”

He gave a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. Oh God, it was worse than she thought. But he surprised her by saying, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

She was stunned by that, her insides and her brain churning simultaneously as she tried to decipher what exactly what was going on. She didn’t have all the pieces, and that scared her. “Then why have you been shutting me out? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t-” he stopped himself, looking down for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts. She could hear the metal of the doorknob squeaking, and she assumed he was gripping it with his prosthetic hand. “That night, I just realized...I’m not good for you, Mika.”

“Of course you are.” she said immediately. Not good for her? That was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alarm bells were blaring in the back of her mind, her muscles tingling. This was not the first time she’d heard something like this. “Bucky, we’re best friends, okay? I want to support you the same way you support me. If something’s happened, if you’re in some sort of trouble-”

“It’s not on you.” he interrupted. His face looked like he was in physical pain - which, knowing him, was very well possible. “Just trust me. Trust me when I say it’s better for you if you forget all about me.”

“Bull shit.” she retorted. She was having trouble breathing now, and felt like her heart was bruising her sternum with how hard it was beating. Was this a dream? This had to be a dream. A nightmare. “Bucky, what is going on? Please. Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it. I’ll help you fix it.”

“I’m not worth your time, Mika.” he said. His voice was not forceful or harsh. It was quiet, resigned,  _ sad. _ She felt like all her organs had liquefied. A voice in the back of her mind was screaming,  _ something’s not right, something’s not right! _

“Of course you are.” she said, and she’d never wanted so badly to know what was going on in his head. “Bucky, you are the kindest, bravest, smartest, most loyal person that I know and-”

“Mika-” he tried to stop her again, but this time she didn’t let him. The pain on his face was worse now.

“-and I know that we’ve had a bit of a rough go of it recently, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you and love having you in my life-”

“-Mika-” 

“No! You are amazing, and whatever this is, we’re going to work through it, because friendships like ours are not common, and-”

“Mika!” this time his voice was so sharp that she actually stuttered to a stop. His chest was heaving, even though she’d been the one rambling at lightning speed. She wanted so badly to hold him in that moment, but knew he wouldn’t let her.

“What?” she asked, and while she wanted it to sound challenging, it barely came out as a whisper. He swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing a couple times as the words hung on his tongue. This was it, he was giving her what she wanted, giving her whatever truth he’d deemed so horrible that his only action was to cut himself out of her life.

“Mika, I was the Winter Soldier.”


	25. Little Bird, Have You Got A Key?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: conversation about suicide in this chapter

_ Mika, I was the Winter Soldier. _

The words hung in the air between them, making it feel thick and heavy. Bucky felt like his heart had completely stopped. It had been his last option, his last attack to make her understand that he was not someone to keep close. Those six words sealed his fate; he needed to gather his things immediately, and leave for Croatia. But his whole body felt frozen, forcing him to watch as Mika’s expression changed from shocked to confused to understanding. That was when his body thawed, and he went with his gut instinct - closing the door. He meant to slam it shut, lock it behind him, and immediately escape through the window. But that plan was interrupted by Mika’s foot stopping the door’s progress, leaving it mostly open. Damn her and her reactions. He shouldn’t have trained her so well. His heart jolted at the look she was giving him - it wasn’t fear, or apprehension, or alarm. No, it was concern.

“Mika, don’t do this.” he whispered. It was supposed to be a clean break. He was supposed to leave days ago. Why didn’t he leave? He knew the answer to that, of course. He was entirely too attached to her at this point, and while he tried to spend the last week forgetting his feelings, their roots only seemed to grow deeper. 

“You said ‘was.’” she said, as if that statement meant anything. She put her hand on the door as well, just for good measure. He could see she was determined to keep it open. He must have looked confused for a moment, because she expanded, “Past tense.”

“Past, present, it means nothing.” he said softly. He was the most dangerous man on the planet, and he had been stupid enough to put her into this position, all because of his own selfishness. She shook her head, vehemently disagreeing with his statement.

“Our past does not define us. It’s what you do now that does.” she replied, and he wanted so badly to believe her, to join her on the optimistic side of things, the side where he could live the life he wanted. But he knew better than that. Out of all the grueling lessons he’d learned over the past seventy years, there was one that stuck out: nothing ever lasts, and everything good dies. He shook his head.

“I have done horrible things, Mika. I can’t - I won’t put you in danger any longer. I’m sorry.” he said, trying to push the door closed. She held fast, and though he knew he could close it if he really tried, he stayed his hand. She took a step closer to him, reaching out as though to touch him, but he moved just enough away that her hand met nothing but air. Her eyes were sad, the saddest he’d ever seen them, but he was steadfast in his resolve. This was best for her.

“We’ve all done bad things, Bucky.” she said softly, taking another step toward him. She was almost in the doorway now. He needed to retreat. 

“Not like the things I’ve done.” he said. His chest ached with the conversation. Why wasn’t she leaving? She should have turned tail and ran as soon as he admitted his past life. She should be terrified. She should hate him.

“But that wasn’t you. You told me yourself, they took you. Tortured you. Made you do things you didn’t want.” she said. God bless her, she was trying to comfort him at this time? Of course she was. He tried to muster up every bit of coldness that he could, but it melted at the sight of her face. It was he who stepped forward this time, so quickly that she took a step back. That’s it, back into the hallway. Back into the light. Back into safety.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I did it.” he said. He thought the truth would be enough to end it. And while he knew the things he could say that would damage their relationship beyond repair, he chose not to say them. They weren’t true, and he was done lying to her. He didn’t want to hurt her, that was the whole point. “One day I will have to pay for the sins I have committed, all the cruel things I’ve done. I am broken and I am dangerous, and you deserve better than that, you deserve the goddamn world. And you and the world are better off without me. Goodbye, Mika. Please send my regards to Nicoletta.” he said. At those words, fear finally settled on her face, her expression so scared that he felt like his insides were being torn in half. But she was now out of the doorway, and with speed he hadn’t used in a long time, he shut it and locked it. He moved away from it, away from her, going to the kitchen and prying up the floor again. She was pounding on the door, frantically screaming his name, but he ignored it. He needed to go. Now. But he froze again. All he could do was rest his elbows on the sink, facing away from the door and covering his ears and shutting his eyes and waiting for her to give up.

Outside, Mika was in a panic. His words were familiar, eerily familiar, and suddenly she couldn’t hear or think or breathe. She felt only the hysteria of someone afraid to lose a loved one. 

_ You’re better off without me. _

“Bucky! Bucky open the door!” she said, hammering the door with her fist. She felt like something was gripping her heart and lungs, felt like she was drowning on what little air she could take in. “Bucky! Please! This isn’t the answer! Bucky!” 

_ There’s too much blood on my hands. _

She knew he wasn’t going to open the door again. But she wasn’t taking his silence as an answer. She tried the handle, but of course it didn’t turn. She attempted slamming into the door with her shoulder, but that only gave her a sore spot that was likely to be a bruise in the morning. Not that she felt the pain, since all her blood had been replaced with adrenaline. He wouldn’t open the door, and she couldn’t break it down. But maybe, just maybe, she could pick the lock.

_ I’ll never pay for the wrongs that I’ve done. _

She knelt in front of the door, practically ripping pins from her hair. They clattered to the floor, her clumsy fingers unable to keep a hold of them. She made a frustrated sound and picked them back up, squeezing them so tightly the metal bit into her skin. She tried to take a deep, steadying breath, then another, then another. She needed her hands to be steady. She’d done this a thousand times before, she reasoned. Every time she forgot her keys, she picked her way back in. She willed her heart to slow, her hands to stop shaking. She could do this. She had to do this.

_ Tell Nicoletta I said goodbye. _

Her fingers were numb as she put the pins into his lock with practiced ease. She’d never tried this on anyone else’s door, only her own. And she prayed to whoever was listening that it would work. Her mind was so clouded with worry that she almost didn’t hear the lock click open, and even then she was afraid that she imagined it. She held her breath as the pins dropped to the floor again, her trembling hand reaching up and grasping the doorknob. As soon as it turned, she leapt up and pushed her way into the apartment, unable to hope for the best considering her all-consuming fear of the worst. 

Bucky was bent over his sink, and it took a moment before he realized she was inside with him. He turned to her with a look of confusion and fear, and he may have said something to her, but she did not hear it. She immediately grabbed his right hand, and in his surprise he allowed her to do it. She pushed up his sleeve, her hand running over the skin of his wrist. He was saying something else, but she ignored him, putting her hands on his cheeks and making sure his focus was completely on her. 

“Bucky, what did you take?” she asked, her voice strained and wavering despite her trying to keep it even. He didn’t answer right away, which caused her panic to rise. “What did you take?!”

“Nothing.” he said, as if he didn’t understand the question. Her hands dropped from his cheeks to his shoulders, though her worry was still sky high.

“Did you drink something? Eat something? What did you do?” she asked, shaking him slightly. She had to know what he’d done, that way she could help him. She had to help him. He shook his head, for once his emotions plain as day on his face. 

“Nothing. I haven’t done anything.” he said. He put his hands on her arms, trying to figure out what was going on in her head, trying to understand why she was freaking out. The metal of his prosthetic hand clicked in the silence as she gathered her thoughts and tried to catch her breath.

“You didn’t - you haven’t -” she was unable to finish any of her sentences. She took a step back from him, running her hands through her hair and taking deep, gulping breaths as if she’d been suffocating. 

“Mika, what’s going on?” he asked. He was missing something here, and it made him nervous. Her hands moved from her head to her heart, and for a moment he was worried she was going to be sick. Perhaps she was worried about that as well. She leaned on his kitchen island, hiding her face for a long time. The silence ate away at them, but he was a patient man. He could wait for her to put herself back together. When she looked at him again, there were tears in her eyes that she was stubbornly trying to blink away.

“Are you alright?” she asked him quietly. If it weren’t for the look on her face, he would have laughed at the question. 

“I’m alright. I promise.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The whole situation was baffling to him, and while he could make inferences as to her concerns, he still felt like there was something she knew that he didn’t. She nodded, crossing her arms over her middle to prevent herself from falling apart. “Did you think...were you afraid I would harm myself?” She nodded again, pressing her lips together as the tears finally spilled onto her cheeks.  _ Afraid _ was a light term for it. She preferred  _ petrified  _ or  _ terrified _ . 

“You were talking like it was the last time I was going to see you.” she said, her voice finally solid. Now that the danger had passed, she felt exhausted. He didn’t answer, watching as her eyes finally flicked around his apartment. This was the first time she’d been inside it, and the most obvious decor was the tactical bag, packed and ready for his departure. It  _ was _ going to be the last time she saw him. “I’m sorry, I overreacted.”

“Don’t apologize.” he said. He had the distinct impression that he should be apologizing, but he did not know why, so he kept it to himself. “Was it...something I said?”

“Everything you said.” she replied, giving a hiccup of a laugh that was by no means humorous. Her eyes dropped, and she leaned against the island. Based on the look in her eye, she wasn’t completely here with him right now. He wondered if that was how he looked when he was stuck in his memories. Mika usually said most things that were on her mind, but she was holding back here. Bucky had just given her his biggest secret, and he wanted to know hers.

“I’m not following.” he said, and that was the truth. She rolled her lips in, staring at the floor for an extended period instead of answering him. With a sigh, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. He didn’t see where this was going, but he waited, his curiosity and his concern both piqued. For a brief moment, he thought she was going to call the authorities, tell them she knew the identity and location of the Winter Soldier. But she didn’t call anyone. Instead, she started playing something, a woman’s voice he didn’t recognize echoing through his apartment.

_ “Hey Mika, it’s me. Um, I know it’s late...it’s too late...you’re probably asleep. You should be asleep.” _ the woman didn’t seem able to keep her thoughts straight. He could hear the subtle tone of distress in her voice. His heart started sinking to the pit of his stomach.  _ “I hope this didn’t wake you...or maybe I do...I don’t know anymore. I know it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve called but...listen, Mika, you’re the strongest one in the family, so I’ll be straight with you. I’ve fucked up. The work I did in America...it wasn’t what I thought it was. They told us we were helping people, but we weren’t. God, Mika, the things we did, the things I did…” _ the voice broke here, her emotions obvious. Distress turned to desperation.  _ “I tried to fix it, tried to change it, but the corruption, it was too deep. I had to leave, but they could find me any day. It’s not safe to be my sister anymore, and I won’t put you in that danger. I won’t do that to any of you. There’s too much blood on my hands, Mika, and I’ll never pay for the wrongs that I’ve done.” _ the woman was sobbing now, and Bucky felt prickling behind his own eyes as well. Tears fell in a steady stream down Mika’s face, and she was covering her mouth with her free hand to stifle her cries.  _ “You’re better off without me. Tell Nicoletta I said goodbye.” _

If the silence had been heavy earlier, it was absolutely crushing now. Bucky had no idea what to say, and Mika was uncharacteristically quiet. He knew she valued closeness, but now seemed like the wrong time to embrace her. While she didn’t seem shocked or scared of him after his earlier confession, that didn’t mean anything right now. She was riding on adrenaline and emotions right now, and her feelings might change after she had time to let it sink in. She gently placed her phone on the counter, her eyes still down on the floor. He stood completely still, giving her time and space to collect herself. She wiped her tears, taking a sharp breath to try and return to her center.

“I, uh, went straight to her apartment the next morning. But it was too late.” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. This was something she thought about regularly, even if she avoided listening to the old voicemail most of the time. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” he said. He understood her fears, now that he heard so many of his words played back to him in a different voice. There were two ends of the spectrum with a conversation like that, and she’d experienced the worst of it. She shook her head.

“You couldn’t know. I haven’t told anyone, not even Elena knows the full story. She just knows I had an older sister that passed away.” she said, straightening up. He still waited for her to look at him with fear in her eyes, to turn and run as she realized what he’d said. The corner of his mouth twitched at her words; he knew what it was like to hide a defining secret. But he didn’t realize what it was like to be let in on someone else’s secret. She looked him in the eye now, trying to feign confidence in her most vulnerable moment. His feelings for her, simmering just below the surface, boiled over so fast he almost choked on them. 

“Thank you for sharing this. And thank you...for caring about me.” he said hesitantly. He still felt like his heart was in his throat. He assumed no one would care if he lived or died, but once again Mika proved him wrong. She gave him a sad smile, uncrossing her arms and barely shifting her weight forward before stopping herself. She wanted to hug him, but he looked so nervous and defensive that she held back.

“Of course, Bucky. I care about you. A lot. Maybe I should say it more often.” she said honestly, and he felt like a bonfire was alight behind his sternum with her words. He took a risk then, moving so that he was leaning against the island next to her. He was still afraid to touch her, but he wanted to be near her. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the floor between them. This could be it, this could be his moment to confess the feelings that had been swirling around in his mind for the past week. Even for someone who didn’t always get social cues, he knew this was an opening that may not come back around anytime soon. But as he looked at her, he realized that now was not the time. Right now, she needed her best friend.

“I care about you too.” he replied, stopping himself before he could add,  _ as more than a friend, more than I ever thought I would care about someone _ . He still felt the elephant in the room, and in the back of his mind he thought that as soon as Mika was alone, she would realize exactly what he’d confessed. A month ago, a year ago - hell, even a week ago - he would have just let it happen, let the fear sink into her and accept it. But he didn’t want that. In fact, it occurred to him that he wanted her to accept  _ him _ and understand him very badly. Did he deserve to have her reciprocate his feelings? No. But so help him, he did not want to lose her. “You probably have a thousand questions. What I told you, about the train and the scientists - that was all true. It just happened during World War II.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he was afraid that the fear had set in. But when she finally spoke, it was only to ask, “How did you get out?”

He figured that question was going to come around eventually. As he tried to formulate his response, he realized the explanation was longer than he would have liked. He summarized it the best he could. “I encountered someone from my past. He was able to beat some sense into me, knock my mind free of the hold they had on me. So instead of going back to my handlers, I left.”

“Someone from your past...but then they would be…” he saw her trying to put the puzzle together. She was smart, he knew she would figure things out without him saying everything. “Wait, did you know Captain America?” he gave her a rueful smile, and she laughed. “Of course you knew Captain America. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

“Steve.” he corrected her. Even back in the days of the Howling Commandos, he never really thought of him as Captain America. He always thought of him as Steve.  _ That little guy from Brooklyn that was too stupid to run away from a fight, I’m followin’ him _ . That’s what he told him once. “A few days after my escape, I went to this big museum exhibit. It helped me start to remember some things, like how we grew up in Brooklyn and all the work we did with the Army. It told me my name was James Buchanan Barnes, and that I’d died that day on the train.”

Her brows furrowed; she was trying to keep up with the minimal information that he was providing her. He wished he could tell her everything, but it was so much, and so painful. “So the name Bucky…” she left her question hanging, and he wondered if she thought he’d been lying this whole time. Granted, he was, but not about his name. Well, his first name at least.

“That’s what Steve used to call me. James Buchanan Barnes may have died that day, but turns out there was still a little bit of Bucky left.” he replied. He felt like his blood was filled with sand as all his anxieties converged; besides the alarm about giving up information, he also had to worry about how she would receive these facts, and then his own affections towards her just sent it all through the roof. But he was going to push through it. He had to. One corner of her mouth quirked up in a smirk, which made his heart flutter for a whole different reason.

“Can I ask one more question?” she said, trying very hard to suppress a bigger smile. He hated when she asked things like that, but he willed himself to keep calm.

“Anything.” he replied, and he meant it. He may not be able to give her all the details, but he would certainly answer whatever she wanted.

“Does this mean I can make fun of you for being like, really really old?” she asked, her resolve finally breaking as a massive smile emerged. He couldn’t help it, letting out a bark of a laugh that quickly led to rolling laughter. That question did not surprise him in the least. 

“Something tells me you will regardless of my answer.” he replied, still laughing intermittently. He could feel himself calming, regressing to the mean. But something was nagging at him from the back of his mind. 

“See, that’s the kind of wisdom that comes with years and years and  _ years _ of experience.” she said, pressing her lips together in an effort to hold in her giggles. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t mind the jokes, but he’d hoped they would at least be  _ good _ .

“Full of shit.” he said. He cleared his throat, and while he hated to bring the mood back down when it was trending upward, he still had one thing he needed to say. “Look, if ever there comes a time where this is...if you’re ever scared, or don’t trust me-”

“Bucky, stop right there.” she said, using her mothering tone. “We’ve all done bad things. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

He got the distinct impression that she wasn’t just talking about him, especially now that he’d heard the voicemail from her sister. He wondered if he was repeating things she’d heard before, if that’s why she was so calm in this situation. “Can I ask a question as well?” he said, deciding to voice his thoughts for once.

“Absolutely.” she said, and while her voice was steady and confident, her fingers were absent-mindedly picking at her nail polish. He wondered if he should notify her about this tell, but decided to save it for another time.

“Your sister...did she ever tell you who she worked for? Or what she did?” he asked. He wanted to know what the scale was. A part of him was also deathly curious and deathly afraid that somehow he and Raisa had crossed paths before. Mika opened her mouth to respond, but hesitated for a couple breaths before actually getting the words out.

“She didn’t tell me, no. But I um, found out. Later.” she said. He was silent, waiting for her to continue. “The agency she worked for was overthrown a couple years ago, and all their information was dumped onto the web. I was digging through some of their files out of curiosity and I found her name.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.” he said, filling in the blanks. He didn’t know why he hadn’t connected the two before, though he supposed he thought that the division was more covert than that. She seemed surprised that he knew to what he was alluding. “How do you know S.H.I.E.L.D.?” he asked. She licked her lips, holding her answer in; after all he’d divulged, she was hesitant to confess this for some reason. It was something else she’d never told anyone, not even Nicolae, whom she worked with. 

“They, uh, outsourced some coding to my company. I did the project, coded the program to implement some weird algorithm they had.” she said. She looked down at her hands now, though her fingers had stopped their movement. “I wanted to see what they were going to use it for. Turns out, it was to kill a bunch of people. So that was great. But yea, I saw the team she’d mentioned once or twice and kinda went down the rabbit hole from there until I found her. They still have her listed as ‘absent without official leave.’”

“Organizations like that like to make sure things are confirmed.” he said. He was listed as many things over the years - MIA, KIA, POW - and now, he supposed he was AWOL as well. He turned over her words in his head, how they were going to use her code to slaughter. Now he wondered if her statement earlier about bad things versus bad people was also about herself. He wondered how much guilt she was carrying around for things that she had no control over. It wasn’t up to her to keep her sister alive, it wasn’t her fault that a Hydra-overrun S.H.I.E.L.D. took advantage of her skills. He considered Mika a positive person, and it hadn’t occurred to him how much she might be hiding with her smile. He wondered something about these files she’d found. “Did you read anything about me?”

“About the Winter Soldier?” she clarified, differentiating between him as a person and the asset that Hydra had abused the past seventy years. He noticed the distinction right away. It was the first time someone had verbally confirmed what he was hoping this entire time - that he was not just the soldier, that he was still himself. She shook her head at his question; her hands were calm now, no longer nervously chipping away the color on her nails. “I can look though, if you want.”

He thought about it, seriously considering it. Perhaps there was something, deep in those documents, to help fill in the gaps of his memories. Perhaps there was something about his arm or the experiments they used to give him regenerative abilities. Perhaps there was something about his family. And perhaps there was nothing there except for pain.

“No, I don’t think so.” he said, and he felt good about his decision. She gave him a smile that made his heart constrict painfully; yes, this was definitely the right way to go. “Probably better to just look forward.”

“That’s all we can do.” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing his fingers. The gesture was so warm and comforting he stopped breathing for a second. They both felt a calming sense of closure, and the closeness that follows such vulnerability. She continued holding his hand as she said, “Speaking of which, all this excitement and secret sharing has burned like, a thousand calories. Want to go get some pizza?” 

It was past midnight, but she could ask him to fetch the sun, and he would. “Pizza sounds good.” is all he said, letting her pull his arm around her shoulders and lead him out of his dark apartment. He felt like a fire was burning through him, his sentiments towards her overwhelming him. He didn’t know if they felt so strong because it had been so long since he experienced them, or if it was just heightened like the rest of his senses after the experiments. Either way, he knew he could not hold them in forever. 

But he would at least hold them in for now. 


	26. Old Fashioned

“So let me get this straight,” Bucky asked as the credits rolled across the screen. “Jane is now married to Mr...Bingley? Even though he left for no reason.”

“Yes. And while we love him, we will never forgive him for that.” Mika answered from the other side of the couch, her hands grasping her nearly empty cup of tea and her toes tucked under his thigh for warmth. Autumn arrived a couple weeks prior, and she grasped any spare heat she could find. 

“And the youngest sister…” he trailed off, trying to remember her name. Mika bit down a laugh. Out of all the movies they’d watched, she didn’t think  _ Pride and Prejudice _ would be the one to confuse him. But she supposed interpersonal drama had not been a priority of his for the past few years. It was funny to see his concern for these characters, despite having trouble keeping them all straight.

“Lydia.” she filled in for him, taking a last sip of her tea. He narrowed his eyes as he thought, and Mika was sure that steam was going to start pouring from his ears any moment now. She had to bite her lip to keep from giggling, his expression so serious as he considered the film.

“Lydia. She ran off with a...what did you call him?” he questioned. Again, she held back her laughter. She’d taught Bucky a new word today.

“A fuckboy.” she replied, putting the empty cup down on the table and sitting up straight. “But in more polite circles, he’s known as Mr. Wickham.”

“Right. Fuckboy.” Bucky said. He was starting to get it now. Mika couldn’t blame him - it’d taken Nicoletta three viewings before she was able to keep up with the entire story. “And then - what are you doing?”

Mika was climbing across the couch, going to sit on the back of it behind him. A relatively normal gesture, though in retrospect she should have given him some warning. “I’m braiding your hair. Seems like the right thing to do since we’re discussing the love lives of imaginary regency women.” she said, putting her knees on either side of him and pulling off his baseball cap. He was very, very still as she did so, but visibly relaxed as she started running her fingers through his shaggy locks. She hadn’t managed to convince him to go get a haircut, and it was past his shoulders now. But hopefully that would be changing...sooner, rather than later. 

“Just trying to understand why it’s your favorite.” he said, a teasing tone to his voice. He was still as motionless as possible, though the knot between his shoulder blades had loosened the more she brushed out his hair, her fingertips gently massaging his scalp. She carefully started plaiting, humming lightly with the end credit music.

“Because it’s funny and dramatic and the woman gets to do what she wants and Mr. Darcy doesn’t bug her when she says no to his proposal, he goes and gets his shit together and only tries again when Elizabeth actually expresses interest in him.” she replied, pulling the hair tie from her own braid and using it to tie off his. 

“‘Dramatic’ seems a good descriptor.” he said, and she could practically hear his grin in his words. She bopped him on the head once before climbing off the couch, picking up his empty coffee mug and taking it to the sink. He gave her an annoyed look from the corner of his eye before reaching up and gently touching the braid in his hair. She thought he would take it out immediately, but she was pleasantly surprised when he left it, the corner of his mouth barely lifted in a smile. She hoped he held on to whatever positivity he had at the moment, cause he was probably going to be upset with her in a few minutes.

“Sometimes a little drama is fun. We can watch the six hour version if you like, might clear things up a bit.” she said lightly, going to the refrigerator and pulling out some yogurt, ignoring the look of shock and horror at her suggestion. She didn’t bother asking if Bucky wanted a snack; instead, she just spooned some into a bowl for him, topping it with the granola she’d made two days prior. He accepted it with a true smile, his eyes following her as she settled back on the couch before tucking in. “Do you know how wild it was the first time to see Elizabeth turn down Darcy’s proposal? Earth shattering. Legendary. Nicoletta’s jaw literally dropped. Raisa nearly flipped the table.”

“It was surprising, I suppose.” he said, raising his eyebrows. She paused for a second, trying to recall the details of a conversation they’d had a lifetime ago. She knew this wasn’t their first conversation about  _ Pride and Prejudice _ , but the details of the prior one escaped her.

“Wait, I thought you’d read the book?” she asked. She remembered he mentioned it, but couldn’t quite remember what he’d said about it. He gave her a smirk, his eyes moving away just enough to show that he was stuck in a memory. At least this one seemed happy. He seemed to be remembering more happy things recently. 

“I read probably twelve pages of it.” he admitted, still grinning. She adjusted her position so she was sitting closer to him, her legs tucked underneath her. Oh yes, he was definitely relishing in whatever memory had grasped him. And Mika wanted to know what it was. 

“Sounds like there’s a story attached to that little tidbit.” she said, giving him a pointed look. Ever since he’d divulged the truth about his past, he’d become a little more open with her about what he could recollect. He didn’t seem as guarded, didn’t seem like he was holding back as much, and she couldn’t help but think that meant he really trusted her. He gave a short laugh at her comment, and she waited patiently for him to give in and tell her about his memory.

“Used to know this blonde,” he started, taking a bite of his yogurt for a dramatic pause. “Worked at the library, used to love to have me read her books to her. She chose this one because there was a moving picture coming out that year.”

“‘Moving picture’? Okay, grandpa.” she interjected, unable to hold back the jab. He smacked her leg with his spoon, and decided to finish his story. She scowled at him, wiping yogurt from her skin. He paid her no mind.

“As I was saying, made it through twelve pages before we decided there were more entertaining activities to partake in.” he said, giving her a Cheshire grin. She let out a snort of disbelief. His stories were always short, but they were always amusing.

“Like what, gazing longingly at each other? Did you catch a glimpse of her ankle? Oh!” she gasped theatrically, and he let out a deep sigh. She definitely was taking her liberty with the old jokes. She whispered her next question in a conspiratory manner, “Did you hold her hand?”

He rolled his eyes, shoving her just enough that she tumbled backwards onto the cushions, laughing gleefully at her own joke. She was glad that he took it so well; he seemed determined to be positive, which was definitely a shift from when she first met him. “It was 1940, not 1840.” he said, sliding his empty bowl onto the table. 

“Ah, so by then you were allowed to kiss her on the cheek?” Mika teased, poking his side with her sock covered toes. He smacked her foot away, which of course only led to her trying to poke him more. He ended up grabbing her foot, holding it for just a moment before his grip softened, letting her leg rest on his.

“Let’s just say I was wearing as much lipstick as she was by the end of the day.” he said with a suggestive look. He looked so comfortable, so happy as he shared this little part of his past life with her that she felt like her heart would burst. But of course, she couldn’t let him win completely.

“Oh, so you were playing dress up?” she asked, smiling at him. A brief picture of Bucky in a dress and lipstick was nearly enough to make her dissolve into giggles again, but she held it back. He gave a short laugh, his eyes going skyward for a moment before returning to her.

“Full of shit.” he said shortly, gazing at her with his intensely blue eyes. It still made her breath catch when he looked her directly in the eye, and now it was accompanied by a twist in her stomach. She wasn’t sure when that extra bit came from, but figured it was because she now knew the source behind all the pain he tried to hide. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Ah, her surprise was here. “Do you know who that is?” he asked, sitting up a little bit straighter. His eyes were now alert, calculating. He was expecting a threat. She was a little disappointed in herself for springing this on him, but knew that he wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.

“Don’t be mad at me.” she said, getting up and moving towards the door. His eyes narrowed.

“Mika, who is that?” he questioned lowly. His posture relaxed somewhat now that he knew the guest was expected, but he still seemed on edge. Mika held up a hand, trying to placate him.

“Now remember, this is for your own good.” she said, opening the door. There stood Maria, who gave her a big smile and an even bigger hug. Mika invited her in, closing the door as Bucky stood to greet her. He was back to his careful, guarded self, the side that he showed when it wasn’t just the two of them. Polite smiles and cordial conversation. She wondered how she’d never noticed before. “Coffee or tea, Maria?” she asked, pulling the other woman’s attention away from the slightly nervous Bucky.

“I’ll take a coffee, if you don’t mind.” she said, setting her bag down on the kitchen island. Mika set to making it as Maria asked, “So, who’s going first?”

“First for what?” Bucky asked. He kept his voice light and casual, but she could see his stance change ever so slightly, preparing to escape. His left hand was stuffed into his jacket pocket, hiding his prosthetic. 

“Bucky, I love you, but it’s time for those luscious locks to be a little more contained.” she said cautiously as Maria pulled out a black canvas package, unrolling it to reveal her various shears. He gave Mika an annoyed look that immediately switched to a smile once Maria looked up.

“Do you often make house calls?” he asked, trying to seem at ease with the situation. Mika vowed never to surprise him again, no matter how much she enjoyed surprising people. While he may seem nonchalant to Maria, Mika could tell the difference. Every word was carefully chosen, and his movements were so purposeful that they seemed robotic to her. She knew he didn’t mind her friends, but he was always on alert around them, always ready for something to go wrong. The only time he seemed at ease was when it was just the two of them.

“Only for people I like.” she replied, pulling an apron out of her bag and donning it before pulling one of the bar stools out from under the island. She patted the seat of it, gesturing for Bucky to sit. “Go on, jacket off and take your spot.” she said. He paused, glancing at Mika. She could see his metal hand flexing in the jacket pocket; his glove was tucked into the back of his jeans, so close, and yet too far to help. 

“Come add your milk and sugar.” she said to Maria, getting her attention. The red head’s face brightened, slipping around the island to where her coffee sat. He gave her a grateful look, quickly pulling on his glove before removing his jacket. The tail of his braid swayed as he moved, and the look was so comical Mika almost regretted her decision to set this up. Almost. He was just taking his seat when Maria finished mixing her drink, bringing it back to her makeshift salon. He still glared at Mika from the stool, only dropping the look when speaking with their friend. Mika did her part to distract her. “So, Maria, how goes wedding planning?”

That was enough to get her friend chattering. Mika sat perched on the kitchen island, watching as she expertly trimmed Bucky’s hair. He was still giving her an intense look, but now a smile was barely playing on his lips. She reached her legs out, resting her crossed ankles on his knee in an effort to give him some sense of comfort. He wasn’t on edge anymore, but he definitely wasn’t completely comfortable. This was probably the closest thing to pampering he’d had in...Mika didn’t want to think how long it had been. 

There had definitely been some moments of doubt on his part after that night in his apartment - he’d asked her no less than four times if she was okay with this, or if he scared her at all. Each time she rolled her eyes, reminding him that she did not feel any danger around him, that more than anything she was appreciative if him sharing his past with her (even if his original plan was to drop the bomb and run). And in the light of his secret, she felt like so many things made sense now; even without him giving details of his time with Hydra, she could see the purpose and intent behind all of his actions and reactions. And while he was hesitant at first after his confession, now he was more relaxed with his conversation, and a little more open with his affection. Well, he was more open to  _ her _ affection, though he was still hesitant to return it. And she couldn’t help but feel closer to him as well; he knew a part of her that no one outside her family knew, and he hadn’t reacted with pity and crocodile tears. He’d given her the support and comfort of someone who’d also seen tragedy and was determined to live in spite of it. She could never compare her experiences to his, but he didn’t discount them just because of their differences. It gave them both the first piece of what they were missing - closure. 

She considered looking through the S.H.I.E.L.D. files for mentions of Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier, even going so far as to pull out the external hard drives that stored them. It’d taken six terabyte drives, but she’d managed to download the entire data dump from the disbanded organization. Most of the files were still encrypted, but she decrypted the most important ones at the time. In the end, she decided against searching for him, only scanning through the folder with all of her sister’s files to see if there was any cross between the two. As far as anyone knew, Raisa and the Winter Soldier had never met. 

Maria made quick work of his hair, cutting it back to the length it was when Mika first met him well over a year ago. Bucky actually looked happy by the end of it, running his hand through the shorter cut, his expression looking oddly touched by the gesture. The look made her emotions swell and her heart beat sternly in her chest; something as simple as a haircut seemed to affect him so much. She wondered if she should try and convince him to do an in-home spa day, really learn what it’s like to treat himself. He surprised both of them by giving Maria a hug and a quiet, heartfelt thank you. She couldn’t stop smiling, seeing how much more confident he seemed to be.

“Look at you, so handsome.” she said, running her fingers through his hair again before kicking him out of his seat and stealing it. He returned to his position on the couch, though he couldn’t stop touching his new hair. She was sad that it was probably too short to braid, but she consoled herself by saying that it would grow back soon enough. At the very least, she knew it would still go up in a little bun. “Now Claire’s going to be even more persistent.”

“Oh, who’s Claire?” Maria sang, brushing through Mika’s hair. Mika relaxed into the chair, taking in the feeling of someone else doing her hair for her. The name of the other woman sent a jolt of irritation through her, but she ignored it, figuring it was probably just the brush hitting a ticklish spot on her neck.

“No one.” Bucky said from the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, building the barrier between himself and the conversation. Mika scoffed, but it wasn’t as strong as she meant for it to be. She was the one who brought up the girl, but now she found herself regretting it. It was too late, of course. She’d committed to embarrassing him, and now she needed to follow through.

“Claire is a casual acquaintance at the pub who has  _ repeatedly _ invited Bucky for a night cap, and he turns her down every single time!” Mika explained, and her friend gasped appreciatively. Her words felt hollow, and she wondered if the other two could hear it as well. She didn’t know why she felt like this, she’d been perfectly fine pointing out his feelings towards the girl with the books earlier. 

“Bucky! You tease!” Maria admonished, beginning to snip away at Mika’s dark hair. They both gave Bucky pointed looks, and he held up his hands in innocence.

“I’ve not led her on. Been honest from the beginning.” he replied, trying to defend himself from their words. Based on his retellings of the conversations, that was true. And honestly, Claire hadn’t tried anything for a couple weeks now. Seemed she’d moved on to just being causal acquaintances.

“Well obviously not, if she’s still trying.” Maria pointed out. Mika ignored everything she knew about the situation in favor of trying to get his cheeks a certain shade of red, and while Maria only knew the bare essentials, she was only too happy to help. “This is the blonde you chat with once in a while?” 

“Yes.” Mika said, and again there was a little bit of a bitter taste in her mouth. She decided to unpack that later, as right now she had company and needed to focus on the conversation. His blush hadn’t reached his face, but thanks to his new haircut, she could see the back of his neck turning red. 

“Well what’s wrong with her? She seems sweet.” she continued, making Bucky shrug. Besides the change on the back of his neck, he looked completely unbothered by their barrage of questions. His voice was still even and light, and Mika wished she could have half his confidence. 

“Not my type.” he said, his eyes once again finding Mika’s. He was giving her a look that she didn’t quite understand, but that didn’t stop her from smirking in return. Behind her, Maria let out a disbelieving  _ hmph _ as she kept snipping away.

“Really? Busty blondes aren’t your thing?” Maria persisted, and Mika thought she was enjoying this a bit too much. Bucky gave a short huff of a laugh, crossing his ankle over the top of his knee and leaning his head against his gloved hand. He was trying very hard to appear casual, which she thought odd. She tucked that fact away for later as well. 

“Nah.” he said, looking at Mika like they were sharing an inside joke, though she couldn’t think of one. Perhaps he was thinking of his friend who shared her lipstick with him; he had mentioned she was blonde. Was that the joke? Maria let out an unamused noise, and Mika wasn’t sure if her friend caught their exchange or not. That was the downside of conversing while she was working. 

“Guess we’ll just have to find you someone tall, dark, and athletic then, hm?” she said, her tone laced with meaning. Bucky let out a low chuckle at this which made Maria laugh as well, and all of the sudden Mika felt like she was on the outside of  _ their _ inside joke. Maria made a few last snips before running her fingers through her hair, getting the last cut bits to fall to the floor. Mika gave her head a shake, taking in the feel of the new style.

“What do you think?” she asked, striking a dramatic pose at Bucky. He gave her a wry smile, still maintaining his casual position.

“Beautiful.” he replied, and though he said it lightly, he looked at her so seriously that it made her heart stutter for a moment. She played off the moment by flipping her hair dramatically, trying to look as arrogant as possible.

“Thank you.” she said lightly, sliding off the stool and turning to Maria, her arms outstretched for a hug. “And thank you, beautiful girl.” she said, holding her tightly.

“Of course.” she said, hugging her friend just as tightly. When she finally pulled away, she gave Bucky a serious look. “You’re still planning on coming to the wedding, yes?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Bucky affirmed, nodding his head. This answer surprised Mika; she thought she’d be spending the next six weeks trying to convince him to go. “Don’t have a suit or tie, but I’ll be there.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix that.” Mika stage whispered, giving her friend a wink. Maria returned the wink, gathering up her shears and putting them all back in her bag.

“Of course you will. Well, have fun cleaning this up, I’m off to go taste some cakes.” she said brightly, kissing them both on the cheek before rushing out of the apartment. Mika smiled, grabbing her broom and beginning to gather the parts of their old lives that they’d cut off. Bucky offered to help, which of course she declined. This was her present, she was going to take care of everything. Without cleaning to focus on, he just looked confused.

“She left before we could pay her.” he pointed out, and Mika dutifully kept her eyes down. This was the part that she was most concerned about; Bucky didn’t seem to like when she did nice things for him, even though he was kind to her all the time.

“It’s already been taken care of.” she replied lightly, sweeping everything into the dustpan and disposing of it. When she finally dared to look at him again, he was giving her the same unamused look he gave any time she gave him something.

“How much do I owe you then?” he asked softly. She wondered if he felt like this was a debt; to her, of course, it wasn’t. It was a gift. She waved him off, going up to him and admiring his new look up close. She carefully moved a few pieces that had gone wayward, wondering if he minded how close she was standing.

“Nothing. It was my treat.” she replied, her tone easy but definitive as she perfected his hair. He was not going to fight her on this. He was going to let her do something nice, dammit. He reached up, and for a moment she thought he was going to rest his hand on her hip, but instead he settled for leaning on the kitchen island. She put her hands on his cheeks, and he stood remarkably still and let her. “Now I can actually see your face.”

“Thank you.” he said gently, in the tone of someone who still wasn’t used to people being nice to him. Mika’s heart could have broken, but she shoved the emotion down; there was no room for pity between them. They could only move forward.

“So you’re really planning to go to the wedding then?” she asked, stepping away from him and going to make more tea, if only to have something to do with her hands. He leaned on his elbows on the island, watching as she went about it. 

“Right now, yes.” he replied, pulling his glove off and slipping it back in his pocket. She shook her head, chuckling lowly at his response. Always open ended, always leaving the possibility of change. She set her tea to steep, turning back to him and eyeing him.

“Do you know how to dance then?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a challenging look. He perked an eyebrow, trying to see if there was another meaning to her words.

“Depends on the dance.” he replied slowly, as if he was nervous for her reaction to them. Mika thought he knew better than to be afraid of judgement, but he was probably more afraid that she was going to make him dance with her. Which, to be fair, she was. She gave him a mischievous grin, grabbing her phone from the counter and scrolling through a track list. The tune that started playing through her speakers was unfamiliar to him, sounding foreign and old fashioned. But it was played at every wedding that Mika had been to. 

“Come here, I’ll show you the steps.” she said, holding her hands out to him and pulling him over to open space. He held her hands gently, as if afraid to touch her. He hadn’t acted like that in ages. He was giving her another look that she didn’t quite understand, and she squeezed his hands once before holding them steadily, trying to reassure him. She led him slowly through the steps, though she had some trouble at the lower tempo. It took a few tries before she finally got her instructions down, and Bucky was able to pick it up from there. He learned quickly, which she expected; she could tell that even before he got the super strength and senses, he’d been an athlete. He became more comfortable as the song played on, his hands holding hers with confidence as he began to take the lead. She smiled as he spun her, his grip tightening to keep her upright. He was smiling as well by the end of the song, and his hands (even the metal one) were steady and sure. Her cheeks felt warm from the exercise, and they paused for a moment at the end of the song until he was the first to pull away.

“Where did you learn that?” he asked, and while he was no longer holding her hands, he hadn’t stepped away like he normally did. She smiled at the memory.

“My father taught me, when I was...eight I think? It was a family friend’s wedding, really traditional and old fashioned. Small town life, you know.” she said, stepping away and going to her phone. “You caught on really fast though. Not that it surprised me.”

“I was known to cut a rug, back in my day.” he said, making her roll her eyes in a good natured manner. She adored these stories, but also had to ridicule him at any given opportunity.

“They had rugs back then?” she asked, and he gave her a dark look in return. He couldn’t hold it though, the corner of his mouth sneaking up in a grin.

“They’d just been invented.” he replied. He paused for a moment, thinking hard about something before putting his hand out for her phone. She lifted one eyebrow, holding it out for him to take. She watched him carefully type in the search bar, waiting with bated breath to see what would start playing through the speakers. Soon, a tune that could only be described as  _ jaunty _ was echoing through the apartment. He paused again before holding his hand out to her. His brows were furrowed as she took it, his movements stiff as she stepped closer and his left hand came to rest in the middle of her back.

“Oh, my turn to learn something?” she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder. His palm was warm against hers, and his breathing was slow and controlled, which gave away his nerves. She was starting to notice his tells, as usually they appeared as him trying too hard to not seem nervous.

“Let’s see if I can remember it.” he replied, more to himself than to her. She could see him counting the beats in his head, his fingers tapping lightly against her skin as his muscles tried to recall the way to move. He waited for the down beat before taking a step, and then another, and another. It took him a second to dust off the rust, but soon he was easily leading her through a swing dance. She wasn’t familiar with the steps, but he was a good partner, and as the song went on he became more confident, more easy going with his movements. He was smiling again by the end of it, and this time he looked younger. She felt like she was catching a glimpse of the man he was before the War. 

The song ended and faded into a different one, this one slower and more romantic. He waited a beat before pulling her back to him, a little closer this time. The steps to this dance weren’t fast like the one beforehand, and she felt like the violins were carrying them across the laminate flooring of the apartment. He spun her out, then in again, her back against his chest for but a brief moment before he spun her again, putting a respectable space between them once more.

“Not bad.” she said as they continued to sway and move with the tune. She was pretending to not be completely impressed, which of course, she was. Bucky was strong and tough and knew how to fight and reset dislocated shoulders. She did not expect him to be an expert dancer. He shrugged, giving her a grin.

“Still got a few moves left in these old bones.” he retorted, the metal of his hand clicking as he adjusted it on her back. It felt cool against her skin, even through her shirt. She didn’t mind it though. She moved so that her arm was resting casually on his shoulder, letting her sneak just a little bit closer to him. 

“You should use them more often.” she said, giving him a look. He stared at her for a long time, so long she wondered if she’d accidentally said something to offend him. But eventually he let out a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“Perhaps.” was all he said, finishing the song before stepping away from her. He went and grabbed his baseball cap as the next song on whatever list he found started playing, slipping it on and grabbing his jacket. “Thank you for the dance, and the haircut. I’m afraid I have to go to work now.”

“Of course. I fully expect you to - what was it, ‘cut a rug’? - at the wedding with me in December.” she said pointedly, remembering that she’d left a cup of tea on the counter. It was likely cold now, but she could just stick in the microwave. Bucky grinned, nodding and looking down at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to her.

“Absolutely. See you tomorrow.” he said softly, his eyes once again saying something that she couldn’t decipher. She returned his parting words, going to get her tea as he let himself out of the apartment. Perhaps she didn’t need the warm drink, considering how warm her cheeks felt at the moment. Was she getting sick? She couldn’t be getting sick. She didn’t have time to get sick. 

Either way, the tea wouldn’t hurt.


	27. Not A Thing

Nicoletta took a deep breath and she exited the airport, taking in the air of Bucharest, the air of  _ home _ . No matter how long she lived abroad (which she planned to do for a very, very long time), the city always smelled like her childhood, and would always have the familiar comfort of home. She smiled brightly as she spotted her sister’s car down the line, her hand waving outside the window to catch her attention. She wouldn’t say she  _ skipped _ down the sidewalk, but she certainly did not take her time getting to the car, due to both her excitement and the cold winds surrounding her. She squealed as she tossed her bag into the back seat, jumping into the passenger seat and leaning across the console to give her a quick hug before settling into her seat. 

“How was your flight?” Mika asked, pulling away from the curb and onto the road. She was smiling brightly, reaching across to squeeze Nicoletta’s fingers once more before returning her hand to the steering wheel. 

“Not bad at all. Sat next to the most adorable little girl on the plane. When she saw my sketchbook she begged for a tattoo with her little magic markers, so that helped the time pass.” she said. She’d had every intention of continuing her practice with different postures, but the eight year old had spotted some flowers she’d doodled and was very excited about them. She was surprised when the mother seemed more than okay with Nicoletta carefully inking a sunflower onto the back of her daughter’s hand, admiring the work appreciatively when she was finished.

“Do I sense another career change, then?” Mika asked with a grin, carefully navigating through traffic back to her apartment. It was her favorite joke, since her sister often had a different nine-to-five every time she came to visit. Nicoletta let out a snort, sliding down in the seat and putting her feet on the dash.

“No, I think I prefer my canvases to be still. Plus I couldn’t bear the humiliation if I messed up on something that was permanently on someone’s skin.” she said, the idea alone enough to make her heart beat a little harder. “Besides, the postcard business is apparently rather lucrative.”

“Moreso than the puzzle business?” she asked, her question genuinely curious. 

“Oh definitely. And I can actually create with some details.” she said. Truth be told, she wished she could be famous enough to just make her own art and sell that, but it wasn’t exactly an easy market to break into. So far, most of her sales came from Etsy. She hadn’t originally wanted to go that route, but eventually she decided that selling her art online was better than it collecting dust in the art room of her new house. “It’ll pay the bills until I can become Instagram famous.”

“Ah, the dream.” Mika sighed, giving her sister a grin. She used to try and encourage Nicoletta to pick up something more stable than art as a career, but after their older sister’s passing a few years prior she became more supportive of her dreams. Nicoletta always thought that Mika would be happier owning her own bakery, but she insisted that she was happy with her codes and her programs. She had an eye for patterns, not for business, she said. She disagreed, but figured that it was her sister’s prerogative what she did with her life. Although, now that she was looking at her, Mika seemed happier than she had been in a long time. The differences were subtle - she always tried to put on a positive front - but they were there. And it was her job to investigate and figure out why.

“So, what’s new with you?” she asked casually. If she was going to pry into her personal life, it had to be delicate. Mika shrugged, making a noncommittal noise.

“Nothing much. Same shit, different day really.” she replied, pulling into the garage where her car normally slept. Nicoletta scoffed.

“Now I know that’s not true.” she said, her tone disbelieving. Was she hiding something? The game suddenly had much higher stakes. Getting people to admit their secrets was one of her favorite pastimes. Mika pulled into a spot, putting the car in park and turning it off.

“It is! I live a boring life, you know this.” she said as they exited the vehicle. “It’s getting too cold outside, I’m about to hibernate until spring.” 

“So what I’m hearing is you’re using the weather as an excuse to sit on your couch under seventeen blankets and not move.” she said pointedly, pulling her bag over her shoulder and following Mika down to the sidewalk. To be fair, it was starting to get really chilly outside as winter threatened to come early. But Nicoletta had always loved winter; it gave her an excuse to sit inside with her paints and let her mind wander. Something about the warmth of a fire and frost on the windows inspired her, and helped her create some of her favorite works. Mika was all about summer - she wanted the heat and the sun and the smell of hot concrete after a rain. 

“Absolutely I am. The farmer’s market is closed for the season, so I pretty much only leave for food and the gym. And even then, Bucky has to convince me to go to the gym. And I can usually convince him to bring me food.” she said with a laugh, wrapping her arms around her middle. Nicoletta held back a smirk; the first piece of the puzzle had been revealed. 

“Living your best life then, hm?” she teased, bumping her with her shoulder. They made quick work of the walk home, ducking their heads down against the biting winds. Their skin tingled as they entered the warm entryway of the apartment building, and by the time they reached the top floor they were more than defrosted. Mika’s apartment smelled of coffee and vanilla and spices, as if she’d been baking right before she left. Sure enough, there was a plate of cookies sitting on the counter, and Nicoletta was willing to bet good Romanian lei that the middle ones were still warm. 

“Help yourself.” Mika said, gesturing to the plate. Nicoletta grinned, taking one off the top and eating it in a couple bites. The cookies tasted of pumpkin and spices, tasted like Christmas. They were some of her favorites, and there was almost always a plate of them waiting for her every time she came to visit. 

“Amazing as ever.” she said, eating a second one for good measure. She usually expected to gain a kilo or two every time she came to visit too. She fidgeted with her heavy bag, moving it up higher on her shoulder. “I’m going to go wash off the airport. Do we have any fun plans for this evening?”

“Nothing specific. Figured you’d want to just hang out and rest for a little while, then maybe head out to the pub. At some point this weekend I’ll need your help though.” she replied, pulling out a loaf of bread and block of cheese to fix them a snack. 

“Oh, my help? For what?” she asked, already excited. Mika grinned in a conspiratory manner.

“Jonas and Maria are getting married next month-” she started, and Nicoletta interrupted with a squeal.

“That’s so exciting! Do I get to be your date? Oh! Am I  _ invited _ ?” she asked excitedly. She knew the answers to all the questions, of course, but she wanted to take the opportunity to pester her sister. She was only here for the weekend, so she had to be efficient in annoying her as much as possible. Mika gave her an unamused look.

“No, but Bucky is, and he needs to go shopping but has gotten  _ way _ too good at saying no to me.” Mika explained, though Nicoletta had the distinct impression that the opposite was true. 

“So you need my help how?” she asked, teasing her. Mika put down the food and came around the island, and Nicoletta wasn’t fast enough to escape her grasp as she held her close and pinched her cheeks, not letting go despite her screeching. 

“Because you’re just so goddamn cute that no one can say no! No one can say no to this face!” she said, laughing maniacally as she continued to mess with her. God, how did she get so strong? Nicoletta could usually wrestle out of Mika’s holds - she was small, but she was scrappy - but she had a firm grip on her today. Perhaps she needed to start hitting the gym herself a little more. Or just convince Bucky to  _ stop _ convincing Mika to go. 

“Fine fine fine!” she agreed, figuring that would be the only way to get out of the torture. Sure enough, her clutches loosened, and she was able to separate herself. She stood up straight, pretending she wasn’t out of breath as she fixed her hair. “But I get to go with you. I want to see his face, cause he’s definitely going to hate this.” 

“Of course. That was always part of the deal.” Mika replied, going back to her station at the kitchen island. Nicoletta was sweating; she hated sweating. She sent a halfhearted glare her way, picking her bag up and going to take a shower. It was good to be back home. 

She rinsed off quickly and redressed, and was just twisting her honey hair into a bun when she heard the front door open. She heard Mika talking to their visiter, and a low voice responding. She quickly made sure she was decent before going back out to the living room, hoping the neighbor had popped in for a visit. Sure enough, there was Bucky, looking much more relaxed than the last time she saw him almost a year ago. He gave her a smile - a real smile - and she couldn’t help but be excited to see him. It felt kind of funny, seeing him in person after a year of random text messages and the occasional FaceTime when he happened to be with Mika when she called. But she wasn’t one to question friendship.

“Bucky!” she said happily, leaping onto him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He stiffened for a moment, but then wrapped one arm around her. He was strong enough to easily hold her up with just the one, which was pretty impressive. He set her down gently, again giving her that soft, easy smile. 

“Hello, Nicoletta. How was your flight?” he asked, going to the other side of the island and picking up a chunk of bread and cheese out of the pile that Mika had cut up. 

“Good! Gave an eight year old a tattoo. Pretty exciting times.” she said, sliding onto a bar stool and picking up a bite to eat as well. Bucky nodded, seemingly unbothered by her statement. Apparently children getting inked was commonplace for him. 

“Got to get your first one eventually.” he said lowly, and though his tone was serious, one corner of his mouth was quirked up in a smile. Mika made a surprised expression from where she sat perched on the edge of the island. 

“Do you have one?” she asked, blatantly curious. His smirk grew, and he turned to the cupboard, grabbing a few mugs and decisively not answering her. “Oh my god, where? Of what?”

“That’s a secret.” he said, going to a different cabinet and grabbing pods for the machine. “Coffee?”

“No no, let’s back up a little bit.” Nicoletta cut in. “Actually, yes, coffee would be grand, but I’d like to revisit this tattoo of yours.”

“Nope.” he said, firing up the first cup of coffee and taking another bite of food. He carefully mixed in milk and sugar to the mug, handing it to Mika. Oh, so he knew how she took her coffee now? She watched as their fingers barely brushed, and Bucky seemed to pause before remembering what he was doing.

“Why not? Is it embarrassing?” she asked, leaning in and stage whispering dramatically. He scoffed, going to make a second cup. She didn’t think embarrassment was really in his repertoire. 

“Oh, is it a heart with ‘mom’ written in it? A butterfly? Is it a pin up girl?” Mika asked, enjoying this way too much. He stayed silent, taking the second cup of coffee and sliding it in front of Nicoletta, pulling his hand back before she could grab it and monopolize his attention.

“Is it on your arm? Your ass? Oh my god, do you have a tramp stamp?” Nicoletta continued pestering him. He let out a low grumble that she couldn’t understand, turning his back to her to fill up the last mug. Mika narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what he said too.

“What was that?” she asked, not letting him get away with his mumbling. He took a long sip from his cup of coffee, ignoring how blisteringly hot it was. Both girls sat and waited patiently for him to crumble under their collective gaze.

“Double the women, double the shit.” he finally said, more resigned than anything. Mika and Nicoletta both let their jaws drop, the latter letting out an indignant  _ hey! _ at his response. The jab surprised her; yes, Bucky was much different than when she met him last year. Well, perhaps different was the wrong word. Perhaps he was just more himself.

“You’re full of double the shit!” Mika laughed, going to shove his shoulder. Her pitiful attempt was easily brushed off by his hand, so of course she tried again. And again. And again, until she was just flailing her hand at him. He caught it effortlessly, and again his brain seemed to short circuit for a moment before he let it go. He looked like he didn’t know what to do for a moment, so he reached out to get another bite of bread and cheese. 

“Watch it.” was all he said, sending a playful glare towards Mika and a matching one towards her sister. Nicoletta stuck her tongue out at him, snatching his next bite away from him before he could grab it. He perked an eyebrow, instead choosing another bite to take and turning the conversation to her most recent projects. Apparently he had one of her postcards displayed proudly in his apartment, having taken his favorite one (a woman standing on a cliff, overlooking the sea) from the batch that she’d sent to Mika. He said he was impressed by the details on the woman’s face, even though she was positioned so far away from the viewer. She found herself blushing a little bit, his compliments seeming more sincere than most people who commented on her art. 

“Oh! You have to show him  _ Josephine _ .” Mika said, tapping the counter in an excited manner. Nicoletta shook her head, suddenly shy under Bucky’s intense, quizzical gaze.

“Who’s Josephine?” he asked, as if he was worried that she was hiding someone in her suitcase that he didn’t know about. She sent a glare Mika’s direction, but she was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Any time she was self-conscious, her sister was always her biggest cheerleader. 

“ _ Josephine _ isn’t a who, it’s one of my favorite pieces that Nicoletta’s ever done. My favorite portrait for sure.” Mika explained, gesturing at her. “Get your phone, show him.”

“It’s charging.” she replied, making her groan in response. Mika hopped off the counter, gently placing her hands on Bucky’s shoulders as she sidestepped behind him to grab her phone from the other side of the kitchen. For the third time, Nicoletta noticed his movements slow, his gaze following Mika as she picked up her phone and returned to his right side. She leaned casually against him as she scrolled frantically, trying to find the picture that she wanted and completely unaware of...whatever was going on in Bucky’s head. Whatever he was feeling, he was trying very hard to hide it, which meant Nicoletta couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. Add a second mystery to her list of things to solve this weekend.

“This one.” Mika said, holding her phone up so he could see it. Nicoletta could feel her cheeks burning as his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. She didn’t have to see the picture herself, she knew the post that was on the screen.  _ Josephine _ was a portrait of a girl she used to know, elbow resting on the back of the couch as she stared out the window of the little townhome they shared in downtown Berlin. She was attached to it due to the sentimentality, but Mika loved it because she’d managed to perfectly capture the long, glossy braid tumbling over her slender shoulder. 

“You made this?” he asked, astounded. She shrugged, like it was no big deal, even though between the sketching and the painting she’d probably spent a good twenty hours completing it. “It’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” she said with a bright smile, trying to feign confidence. No matter how long she did this, she was still nervous any time someone new saw her work. She pushed the butterflies down, instead noticing Bucky’s subtle emotions as Mika laid her head against his shoulder with a sigh. Her attention was still on the picture

“She’s so talented.” she said, looking up with a glint in her eye. “I still can’t convince her to draw me though.”  
  
“Uh, you don’t sit still long enough.” she pointed out, looking to Bucky for validation. His eyes snapped to hers as he realized she was waiting for his response, and he gave a quick grin before agreeing. 

“Who’s side are you on?” Mika asked, moving back to her spot on the island counter. He stepped back to lean against the opposite counter, crossing his arms over his chest not unlike what she did earlier when battling the cold.

“I’m the neutral party here.” he said, shaking his head. His response earned a noise of disbelief from his counterpart, which made him grin.

“ _ Why are you acting so weird? _ ” Nicoletta asked him in German, assuming Mika hadn’t learned it in the past few months. He looked startled at her question, glancing over at the other woman, who just looked annoyed.

“ _ I’m not acting weird. _ ” he replied steadily, the pitch of his voice dropping with the other language.

“Okay. You both know I hate when you do this.” Mika cut in, but Nicoletta ignored her.

“ _ You are too acting weird. What are you hiding? _ ” she asked directly, loving that she could have this conversation right in front of her sister and she didn’t understand any of it. Bucky gave her a ghost of a grin, his arms still crossed protectively in front of him.

“ _ That’s a loaded question. _ ” he answered, trying to put some humor in his tone to distract her from her objective.

“Seriously, you two are the worst.” Mika interjected once again. And once again, Nicoletta continued as if she hadn’t spoken. 

“ _ Come on, you can tell me. _ ” she said sweetly, trying to figure out what his secret could be. “ _ Are you two like, secretly together? _ ”

He looked even more alarmed at that. “ _ No. _ ” he said shortly, and was able to hide his feelings just enough that she couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or not. Next to him, Mika started speaking in exasperated Russian, having a whole dramatic conversation with herself. Nicoletta could finally interpret Bucky’s facial expression then: discomfort, bordering on pain.

“Alright, alright.” she said, interrupting the flood of Russian coming out of her sister’s mouth. He visibly relaxed then, which both sisters noticed. Luckily, neither of them deemed it appropriate to comment on his reaction. “My apologies, I was just trying to get a more honest review of my artwork.” she lied smoothly, though Mika’s face said she didn’t believe her. 

“Whatever. Just cut that shit out.” she said lightly, giving both of them a warning look. Bucky nodded dutifully before checking the time and pushing off the counter.

“I need to head in to work. See you later?” he asked, moving towards the door and looking between the two of them. Mika nodded, so Nicoletta nodded as well.    


“Have fun! We’ll save you a seat.” Mika said, giving him a warm smile. He grinned back, nodding his head once before letting himself out of her apartment. Once the door was closed behind him, Nicoletta rounded on her sister.

“Okay, what is going on between you two?” she asked, giving her a pointed look. Mika, for her part, looked confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked, and she sounded pretty genuine. Nicoletta sighed in a frustrated manner. Her sister was so dumb sometimes.

“Seriously? You’re going to tell me there’s nothing there?” she asked in return. She thought the shift in their demeanors was relatively obvious, if one was paying attention. But Mika acted like the idea was preposterous.

“No, we’re just friends. Really good friends.” she said matter-of-factly. The words sounded practiced, at least to Nicoletta’s ears. She scoffed dramatically, picking up her coffee and going to curl up in the comfortable chair in the living room. 

“You two may not be together, but you’re definitely not ‘just friends.’” she said, giving her a look as she came to lay down across the couch. Her eyebrows were pinched together in annoyance as she started scrolling through her Netflix feed, trying to ignore the implications.

“Best friends then.” she replied in an even tone, and Nicoletta knew she was hoping the conversation would end there. But they both tended to be a little stubborn, and she was not going to let her get off lightly.

“It sounds like you’re hiding behind the friend label to avoid getting hurt.” she pointed out. She knew this was going to start a fight, but it was her job to call her sister out on her bull shit. That’s what younger siblings were for. Mika finally looked at her then, her expression starting to tilt past annoyed and towards angry. 

“Do you actively get into relationships to get hurt? I feel like that’s taking the whole ‘tortured artist’ thing a little too far.” she said cooly, sitting back up so she could level with her. Nicoletta rolled her eyes.

“First off, don’t be dramatic. Second, this isn’t about me. This is about you once again being afraid of your feelings for someone who would actually be really good for you!” she stated, adjusting her position so she was leaning closer. She wished Mika could see things from her point of view, see how happy they both were around each other; maybe then she wouldn’t be fighting her so hard on this. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her tuck her feelings into a little box and shove them under everything else in her mind, but she certainly hoped it would be the last. 

“I don’t - I’m not -” Mika stuttered, trying to gather her thoughts. There were too many points she wanted to make, but she was too frustrated to organize them. She let out a deep, controlled sigh. “Look, even  _ if _ I had any inklings of feelings for him -  _ which I do not _ \- it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way in hell he’d ever have feelings for me. So let it go.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, incredulous. God, her sister was even more blind than she thought. “That man is completely in love with you.”

“No he is not.” she said shortly, shaking her head. She may have had something to add, but Nicoletta didn’t let her.

“Yes he is! Every time you touched him - which was a lot, might I add - he literally looked like his heart stopped beating for a second. He hangs on every word you say. For fuck’s sake, he knows how you take your coffee.” she countered, her voice rising an octave in her excitement.

“Now who’s being dramatic?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. Nicoletta’s blood nearly boiled at the comment, but she took a deep breath to simmer it down. “I’m affectionate with everyone, don’t read too far into it. It’s not a thing, okay? So don’t try and push it.”

She didn’t want her to push it with her? That was fine. There was more than one side that she could push on. “Okay, okay, okay.” she agreed, holding her hands up in what appeared to be defeat. Of course, she was already formulating her plan, but Mika didn’t need to know that. 

“Thank you. Now, what do you want to watch?” she asked, all the bite taken out of her tone. Nicoletta thought for a moment before selecting  _ Pride and Prejudice _ , knowing it was something either one of them was willing to watch at any given time, and it would be sure to lift their moods after this little tiff. This was usually how they spent their first day together, taking some time to relax and catch up with the occasional fight to keep it lively. It was well into the night when their stomachs finally let them know that it was time to get off the couch and head out to the pub for something to eat and some company to share. Elena was there, of course, and Nicolae joined them as well. Bucky rounded out the group when he finished his shift, sliding onto the edge of the bench with his mug of coffee. When she inquired about his drink, he gave a wry grin a murmured that there may be a bit of whiskey in it as well. 

She eventually found a way to get Mika and Bucky sitting next to each other, sliding opposite of them, next to Elena. She needed a partner in crime, if her plans were going to work. And Elena was just the person to enlist.

“Do you see what I see?” Nicoletta asked, leaning her elbow on the other woman’s shoulder and talking low, hoping the noise of the pub was enough to cover their words. She didn’t look at her targets, not wanting to draw attention to herself. They were distracted anyways, talking to each other about something or another. 

“I have for quite a while now.” Elena stated, pretending to be interested in something on her phone. “Everyone sees it, except for the two idiots.”

“They really are dumb, huh?” she sighed, trading her elbow for her head. She glanced across the table, seeing Mika point something out to Bucky, her eyebrows up as if she were goading him into something. He gave her an unamused look, then his eyes slid to Nicoletta’s. Her eyebrow twitched in a question, and his only answer was a barely perceptible shrug before he got up and made his way towards the bar. She slipped out of the booth, going to sit next to Mika and following her gaze as he walked away. “Is he getting more drinks?”

“Nope.” Mika said shortly, nodding towards her friend. Nicoletta watched as Bucky walked up to the bar, then watched with abject horror as he started talking to some blonde sitting there. 

“Who the fuck is that?” she asked incredulously. She did not like the look of that girl. That girl was definitely not Mika. Why was he talking to her like that? Was he...smiling? No, not allowed. 

“That is Claire.” Mika replied, and Nicoletta wondered if she knew that she wasn’t completely covering up the distaste in her voice. “We haven’t seen her in a couple months, but she has repeatedly invited Bucky to go home with her.”

“And he does?” she squeaked, unable to mask her surprise. He did not seem like the one night stand type, or the friends-with-benefits type. He seemed like the end game type. Mika laughed at her exclamation.

“No, he hasn’t.” she said, still giggling. But her laughter stilled, and Nicoletta followed her gaze back to the bar, where Claire was picking up her purse. “That is, until tonight.”

Bucky was giving the blonde a cordial smile, gesturing for her to take the lead towards the door. Nicoletta couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping as he trailed her out of the pub and into the night, leaving nothing but a breath of cold wind as the door closed behind them. 

“What?” she whispered to herself. She had been so certain about what she saw, especially with his defensive reaction to her questions. He’d practically blushed every time she came in contact with him. And now...this?

“Told you. Not a thing.” Mika said softly, downing the rest of her drink. She let her face fall for just a split second before she had a smile back plastered on her face. Suddenly, Nicoletta felt guilty for pestering her earlier. But if Mika was mad, she didn’t let on, instead just putting her arm around her shoulders and asking, “Want to go play some darts?”

Nicoletta found herself agreeing, even if what she  _ actually _ wanted to do was find Bucky and knock some sense into him. 


	28. A Whole New Light

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure if they were meeting Saturday morning, but he was awake and ready just in case. 

About ten until six, he heard the tell tale signs through the walls. Though Mika was trying her best to be quieter than usual (Nicoletta likely asleep next to her), he could still hear her going through her apartment, getting ready for the morning. He grabbed an extra jacket to keep out the winter winds before stepping out into the hallway, taking his usual spot leaning against the wall to wait. She was right on time, slipping out of her apartment just as the hour turned. She gave him a warm smile, her eyes still slightly heavy from sleep. She’d attempted to tame her hair into a long ponytail, but it was slightly messed, likely from the multiple layers she’d donned to try and stave off the cold. For a moment his brain paused; he’d seen her countless times first thing in the morning, but now he found himself distracted by how soft the skin of her cheek looked in the low hall lights, how her movements were just a little bit lazier, more comfortable, than when she was more awake. She was so pretty. How did he not realize before how pretty she was? 

She was giving him an expectant look, and he felt the back of his neck heat up with chagrin. She’d clearly said something, but he’d been too distracted and didn’t hear it. He cleared his throat and shook his head to clear the fog. “Come again?” he asked, and a wicked smirk appeared on her face, though it wasn’t as wide as usual. She must be tired from staying out with her sister.

“I said, I’m surprised that you’re home this morning.” she said, her tone light and teasing. She held out the customary cup of coffee that she always brought. “Clearly you need this.”

“Got home around the usual time last night.” he replied, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to explain. She made a disbelieving noise and the smirk never left her face, even as she walked past him to go down the stairs. 

“You would try to avoid a walk of shame.” she said, her voice low and taunting. His brows pinched together as he tried to translate her phrase; sure, he’d taken many long walks home in shame before, usually when he and Steve had spent their train money on something superfluous. But based on her inflection, that was not the intended meaning.

“Didn’t realize walking was shameful.” he said, figuring that was the safest response to avoid ridicule. Well, more ridicule than usual. She glanced back at him, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to make sure she stayed steady on the stairs. Why was she always trying to turn around while walking on the stairs? Did she want to trip and tumble down the fifteen flights?

“Only when it’s the morning after a night of lustful passions.” she said dramatically, turning and wiggling her eyebrows to make her point. Again, did she want to fall to her death here? It took him a moment to realize her meaning, and why she was making the joke in the first place.

“Ah, you mean my leaving with Claire last night.” he said as the pieces fell into place. She made an exaggerated face of understanding, making fun of his delayed response. She patted his shoulder as the exited the building, and while he hoped she would tuck her arm around his, he was disappointed as she stuffed her hands into her coat pockets instead. He didn’t dare reach out for her, but he managed to step just a bit closer as they walked, pleased when she moved next to him as the breeze blew by them.

“That’s exactly what I mean. I’m proud of you, finally branching out and having a little fun.” she said. He couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle; she still believed him capable of a casual tryst? Clearly he was hiding his feelings even better than he thought. At least from her. According to her sister, they were plain as day. It was just as well; it didn’t matter who thought they knew about the stirrings of his heart, as long as he didn’t lose Mika in light of it. 

“Nothing happened.” he stated, feeling the need to tell her this, to reassure that he did not have eyes for any other woman. Maybe he was not bold enough to express how he felt, but he also did not want her to think he had other interests. For a split second, her expression changed, but it was gone too quick for him to decipher it. It was replaced with a vaguely annoyed look.

“Bucky, I promise, losing your virginity is not as scary as it sounds.” she chided, the corner of her mouth quivering as she tried to appear serious. He did roll his eyes at this; between the  _ old _ jokes and the  _ virgin _ jokes, she was having entirely too much fun.

“Still not a virgin.” he deadpanned, the ghost of his past self offering him many flirtations to attach to the assertion:  _ I promise; want me to prove it to you?; let me show you. _ He swallowed all of them down; though they often shared bawdy jokes, this time it meant something, at least to him. 

“So, what, you just...walked her home?” she asked, and he couldn’t tell if she sounded confused or astounded. The truth was, that was exactly what he’d done. Granted, Claire had also made a comment about  _ jealousy _ with an extended look at Mika, but he decided to leave that part of the story out.

“Her new boyfriend was supposed to meet her there, but got caught up at work. She said she was waiting before going to his apartment building because it’s in an area that makes her nervous. So, yea, just walked her home.” he explained, looking down at the sidewalk instead of at her. She let out a sigh, and at first he thought she was annoyed with him, but she was smiling when he finally looked back up at her.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” she said, finally taking her hand and holding onto his arm, leaning against him. He felt like his heart stopped for a moment before picking up again with renewed fervor, its pace sending a warmth through his veins that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He knew it was selfish, to keep her this close and take advantage of her affection when she likely didn’t return his sentiments, but he didn’t want to let her go. The past few weeks he’d been playing a meticulous game, trying to make sure his mannerisms were exactly the same as before his epiphany. But that was one thing he couldn’t shake: her physical affection, something he’d grown used to, was now something he found himself actively seeking. Luckily, she didn’t seem suspicious. 

“Wouldn’t describe myself like that.” he replied, his mouth dry at the compliment. The fact that she could call him that in light of his past, which she  _ actually knew about _ , completely astounded him. Sure, she didn’t know the details, but she knew enough. She knew more than anyone. 

“Of course you wouldn’t. That’s why you have me.” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. Maybe it was just because of the cold, but he thought she was a little bit closer than usual. Or perhaps that was just his own wishful thinking. She looked pensive for a moment before continuing, “Are you sad that Claire is no longer single?”

“Not at all.” he said, his answer quick and his voice confident. It was laughable, really, that he would be concerned about Claire’s love life. Not that he would voice that, of course. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, grinning. “Told you, not my type.”

“Yea, yea, yea.” she said, nodding her thanks as he opened the door for her. It was nice and warm in the gym, and automatically his layers became overwhelming. He peeled off his outermost layer as they walked across to the group exercise room, not wanting to wait until they were inside. The bikes in the corner were empty, and Bucky wondered if the changing seasons were enough to keep the little old ladies from their work outs. Mika flung her bag down onto the floor as they ducked into the room, removing her layers and depositing them in a pile next to it. On the other hand, Bucky carefully laid his things down, folding them and putting them in a neat stack. As he pulled off the last thermal, he spotted her exaggeratedly looking at his back, grinning mischievously.

“What, staring at my ass?” he asked as he put the last piece of clothing down. He meant it in jest, but he wasn’t sure which answer he was actually looking for. She let out a bark of a laugh, surprised by the question.

“Trying to see where your secret tattoo is hiding.” she responded, giving him a pointed look. The warmth that had been coursing through him was replaced by ice; he’d been hoping she would forget about the tattoo conversation, but he should have known better than that. Mika never forgot anything, especially the things he wanted her to. He could no longer lie to her about his past, but he didn’t want to burden her with the pain he’d experienced. Most of the time she asked about his younger days, knowing that his later days were not ones he wanted to relive. She very rarely asked about his time after he fell from the train, and the few times she had, it had been on accident. Like what was happening with this conversation.

“You’ll never see them.” he responded, hoping to imply that they were hiding in private places. But of course, that was not what Mika heard.

“‘Them’? Plural? How many do you have?” she asked, her eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped. Bucky inwardly grimaced; in his effort to try and avoid more questions, he’d simply just given her the run-around, trying to bide his time before the inevitable disclosure of the truth. He let out a sigh, and her expression wavered for second. She was starting to understand, starting to see that these pauses weren’t him trying to translate his answer, but him trying to decide what to say in the first place. She took in a breath, and he knew she was going to back pedal, tell him that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to. She was going to try and protect him from the pain. But he didn’t want to keep things from her. She was the only person he could be open with, the only person who knew some of the worst things about him and cared anyway. 

“I used to have three.” he said softly before clearing his throat, trying to be more confident in his answer. He rolled up his sleeves, giving his hands something to do. “The coat of arms for the 107th, here on my ribs. One of the dancers from the Captain America show, on my calf. And then Steve’s star on my shoulder. They, uh, burned the first two off. Identifying factors and all.” That was one of the least painful things they’d put him through, and the scars, while angry and red at first, were now smooth and silvery. They were so broad that they were barely noticeable, as opposed to the thick keloid scars from his deeper wounds. 

She was making that face that made his stomach flip, the one that made him think she was heartbroken for him. “And the star?” she asked, trying to pretend that she was tough, just like him. He shrugged, moving his metal arm so that the plates of the shoulder clicked and the gears grinded. 

“Not sure. It may still be under this thing.” he replied. In actuality, he wasn’t sure how much of his actual arm he had left. He remembered waking up to see them shaping the stump, but it was entirely possible that they’d removed the entirety of it when he’d been unconscious. His star had been small, smaller than the one they so brazenly painted on his prosthetic. The red thing glared at him every day, a cheap bastardization of the one he had before. But he found if he kept it covered up, he didn’t think about it very often. 

She rolled her lips in for a moment, trying to think of what to say. She ended up clearing her throat and saying lightly, “Guess we’ll just have to get you some new ones, hm? I’m thinking dolphins on your low back.”

“Only if you get a matching one.” he replied, giving her a pointed look. Her sad face broke then, and she laughed lightly, shaking her head. 

“Full of shit.” she said, moving her arms back and forth to get some warmth into them. He didn’t bother warming up; he knew he would be fine. She cocked her head to the side as she thought of something, her face warning him that she had another question. While he wasn’t as nervous about her questions as before she knew everything, it still made his heart quicken. Or perhaps it was just because he had her full attention. “Hey, how much do you hold back?”

“What?” he asked, confused by her question. Did she mean his thoughts? His reactions? His memories? Because that was a fair amount. He used to be loud, boisterous, outgoing. Now...well, he wouldn’t describe himself as a  _ shell of his former self _ anymore, but he was definitely more reserved. She gestured between them.

“During our sparring. How much do you hold back?” she asked. Oh, physically? That was also a fair amount. Though her skills improved with each session they had, and her strength had certainly increased since their initial lessons, there was no way she could handle it if he didn’t control his body. 

“Approximately seventy-five percent.” he replied, knowing that the answer was going to hurt her feelings but unwilling to lie to her. He wanted to give her confidence, yes, but not at the sacrifice of her safety. Granted, if she were to take on a normal, non-enhanced man of his height and build, there was an eighty-nine percent chance she would win. But he was not normal. 

“You hold back seventy-five percent?!” she exclaimed, and sure enough, she looked dismayed. His mind whirred as he tried to figure out how to remedy the situation, what to say to make her realize that it wasn’t because she was so weak, but that he was scientifically engineered to be so  _ strong _ . He waved with his metal arm, the plates sliding and clicking with the gesture.

“You realize I can throw a car with this, right?” he deadpanned, tucking his hand in his pocket. He had before, at least. Just not recently. Her eyes widened as his words registered. 

“A  _ car _ ?!” she said, her mouth gaping. He shrugged, not knowing what to say. Throwing a car hadn’t even been that difficult, and part of him wondered exactly what the strength parameters were with the prosthesis. Her expression changed, and she continued, “Okay,  _ without _ the metal arm, what percent do you hold back?”

Well he couldn’t just ignore the metal arm; as much as he hated it, it was part of him. And though he didn’t want to admit it, it was useful at times. He could feel his brows pinching together as he thought. “Forty, perhaps? Maybe fifty?” he eventually decided on those numbers, though they were the roughest of estimates. She looked more satisfied with this answer, nodding her head and moving her legs to warm up a little more.

“Go all out. Just once.” she said, putting her hands on her hips in a powerful pose. He let out a brief laugh, shaking his head. 

“Absolutely not.” he replied immediately. He did not need to take that risk of hurting her. She didn’t realize what she was asking. She stepped up to him, closer than usual, closer than ever except when she’d given him that brief kiss on her birthday (the kiss that sometimes kept him up at night). 

“What if I  _ dare _ you to?” she said challengingly. He gave her an unamused look. He was the most feared assassin in the past fifty years. He did not get  _ dared _ .

“Not going to happen.” he stated. He tried to put the same quiet confidence in his words as usual, but he was having trouble breathing with her so close. Most of the time, his feelings were on the back burner at a steady simmer. There he could keep them, and Mika be none the wiser. But moments like these, where she was so close that he could count the freckles across her nose and smell the flowers of her shampoo, he forgot that he was hiding it from her. He tried to lick his lips, but his mouth had gone dry. And she had no idea.

“What about like, 90 percent?” she asked, her gaze still steady and unwavering. She was so bold, so certain he wouldn’t hurt her, and he wondered for the thousandth time how she managed to trust him so much and so unwaveringly. He was about to tell her no once again, but she tried to surprise by swinging towards his ribs. He caught her hand easily, spinning her so that her back was against his chest and his arm around her neck. He hadn’t even removed his metal hand from his pocket. He could feel the beat of her heart, feel her chest as it rose and fell with her breath. Her body was pressed against him, making his heart stop and the ghosts of memories past move in the back of his mind. He could feel his grip loosen, just a hair. He liked holding her,  _ wanted _ to, but not like this.

Luckily, Mika proved to be a wonderful student and took advantage of his momentary distraction, taking his arm in both of her hands and shifting her hips. With a speed that surprised him, she lowered her center of gravity and twisted her hips as she pulled, sending him over her shoulder and flat onto the mat. He laid spread eagle, staring at the lights of the room as Mika whooped and hollered in her victory, dancing around the room. She was making fun of him, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to understand her words. He wanted to laugh, honestly. This was what happened, when he had feelings again? He supposed it could be worse. She laid down next to him, resting her head on his arm and making his heart stop again. He tried to restart it, figuring his brain needed the blood if he was going to actually try and converse with her.

“Forty percent my ass.” she said with a grin. He rolled his eyes, putting his metal hand over his eyes in an effort to both hide his face and cool it from the fiery embarrassment creeping over his cheeks. She poked the bit of his cheek that wasn’t covered by his hand, unable to hold back her giggles. “Oh, don’t pout. It’s your own fault for training me so well.”

“I hate myself right now.” he said. That was all he could get out, as he was once again drowning in the warmth of her skin and the smell of her shampoo. She laughed, rolling off of him and standing back up. She grabbed his hand, helping him back to a standing position. Her hand was soft, so much softer than his. Even though it had been almost six months since the warehouse fire, his hands were still calloused from the manual labor he did there. But she didn’t shy away from his touch, or his presence. He thought he would get used to having these feelings, that they would fade to a manageable level, a level that didn’t make him want to simultaneously hold her to his chest or throw her across the room. But every day that they spent together only seemed to add more fuel to the fire - not a huge amount, not barrels of gas or redwood sized logs, but twigs and kindling, enough to keep the flames dancing, enough to steadily build it. One of these days, he was afraid it was going to consume him. 

“You’re just too good of a teacher. Now come on, teach me something new.” she replied, getting in her ready stance. He grinned, beckoning her to try and take him on once again. Fighting was about the only thing he could do without becoming completely undone around her. And, she was actually becoming pretty good.  _ Really _ good. Good enough that maybe he would have to start trying a little harder one of these days. 

Sometimes he thought about telling Mika how he felt, but then he remembered who he was, and what he’d done. He was lucky enough for her to still be his friend, and if he confessed romantic inclinations towards her, that could change everything between them. She likely didn’t return these feelings, and he didn’t think he could handle what would happen afterwards. What if it made her so uncomfortable that she stopped speaking to him? Or, even worse, what if she  _ did _ feel the same way? He didn’t know how to date anymore, how to be in a relationship. He barely knew how to be a person, a friend. No, he would only end up breaking both of their hearts. It was best to keep these things to himself. 

The walk back after their yoga session was somehow colder, likely thanks to the sweat they’d built up that morning. Bucky didn’t mind; it meant that Mika hugged his arm a little closer in an effort to steal his body heat. He still knew it wasn’t safe to be close to her, and knew he may not ever tell her about what was in his heart, but he selfishly wanted to keep her close. They were walking in silence, taking in the early morning sun and the clear skies. For the first time, Romania truly felt like home.

He turned to her, remembering something that happened the day before. “I didn’t know you could speak Russian.” he said, keeping his tone light. He’d been shocked to hear the new language yesterday, thinking she only knew Romanian and English. Plus, he hadn’t planned to hear Russian again for a very long time. He felt guilty, hating an entire language so much. But it was a language that had only been used to hurt him, and it was ugly, even coming from Mika’s beautiful face. She turned to him, her cheeks pink from the cold.

“Oh, yea. Took it in college. I was originally supposed to take Japanese, but it was all full so...Russian it was.” she said nonchalantly. “Do you speak it too?” she asked him, her Russian accented by her Romanian roots. He couldn’t hide the wince as she spoke it again.

“Unfortunately.” he said in Romanian, refusing to let the Slavic language touch his tongue again. Her steps slowed, and she looked at him with a confused gaze. He looked away from her, instead watching their feet as they continued down the street. “That’s...I heard it, most often.” He didn’t want to tell her about the words, about the commands, about  _ ready to comply _ . 

“Oh.” she said lamely, unsure what to do with the second bomb he’d dropped on her that morning about his past. She wanted to smack herself; it was definitely easier to ask questions and talk about things now that there were no secrets between them, but that meant that she asked a lot more questions that were accidentally intrusive. She hugged his arm a little tighter, trying to think of another question to ask. “So how many languages  _ do _ you speak, hm?” 

“Eight.” he answered shortly, making her laugh incredulously. Who had the time to learn that many languages? Luckily she quickly realized that that was the wrong thing to follow up with, and instead decided to go with the more obvious choice.

“What?! Okay, so what are they?” she asked. She was impressed, as she was by almost every little bit of himself that he decided to share with her. He was the strongest, smartest person she knew, by far. Affection for him bloomed in her chest, and she found herself very happy that he was her friend. He smiled, then, thinking for a second before answering her.

“English. Russian. Romanian. German.” he ticked off, naming the most obvious ones first. He then continued, “French, Spanish, Japanese, and Greek.” 

“Quite an array.” she said, completely dazzled by the list. How did he keep everything straight in that head of his? It was so hard for her to switch from one language to another, but he did it flawlessly, seamlessly. He didn’t seem to realize how incredible he was. 

“It comes in handy.” he agreed, giving her a grin. Good, so they’d deflected from the painful memories. She was getting better at that. They both knew that at some point he would have to deal with the trauma from his past, but she wasn’t going to pressure anything, and he wasn’t going to overextend himself. That was fine. They could deal with things as they came. “Especially when I need to talk shit about you to your sister.” 

“I knew it! I knew you two were being mean.” she exclaimed, pushing him away as hard as he could. He barely moved, but there was enough space between them for the cold breeze to slip in, feeling even more icy the places where she’d been holding on to him. It cooled her fake anger, and she immediately grabbed him again. He laughed as they scanned into the building, neither confirming nor denying her accusation.

The apartment was quiet when they got there, but Mika was pleasantly surprised to find Nicoletta already awake, sprawled across her bed and checking the notifications on her phone. “Good morning! You two are back sooner than I thought.” she said, rolling a full turn so she was closer to the foot of the bed. 

“You’re awake sooner than I thought.” she responded, letting go of the doorknob and stepping back towards the kitchen. “Bucky’s here, do you want some breakfast?”

“Of course!” she replied, practically bounding out of the bed in her flannel pajamas. She sauntered into the kitchen, giving Bucky a warm embrace to start the day. Mika couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, seeing how he was so at ease with her sister. She hoped he was happy; he certainly seemed happy. After everything that he’d been through, no one deserved a good life more than Bucky. His gaze drifted to hers for a moment, and she felt that burning behind her sternum again as he gave her an easy smile. 

“You know, you can cook for us if you like, Nicoletta.” she pointed out, grabbing her laptop and bringing it to the kitchen island. She plugged a cable into it, then turned to Bucky with her hand out. “Here, let me see your phone. It needs updates.”

“Thank you.” he replied, handing the device to her. She plugged it in and started getting to work on the software updates and new security software. Not that she didn’t trust the built in ones - she just trusted hers more. 

“Do you want coffee?” Nicoletta asked from in front of the machine. Mika shook her head, her gaze going back to the screen in front of her. She still hadn’t answered the question about food, but Mika knew she would give in eventually. She was not one for just toast and coffee in the morning. 

“No thank you, I’ll get some tea in a minute.” she replied, typing in the necessary codes for the software to work. She tried to disable the new tracking thing she was trying out (since she tended to lose her own phone), but the computer was ignoring her request. She figured since the software was still in beta and her computer was the only thing that could work it, it would be okay. It wouldn’t impair his phone’s function, and that was what mattered. 

“How long are you staying?” Bucky asked, making light conversation as he helped Nicoletta pull out a pan and a cutting board. Mika watched them for a moment, loving how carefree he seemed. He didn’t even flinch when Nicoletta picked up a knife and started slicing ham. 

“Just until tomorrow. This was a quick weekend to hold us over until Christmas.” she replied. “What would you like in your omelette?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” he said quietly, taking a sip from his cup of coffee. Mika looked away as he glanced at her, pretending to be entranced by her computer screen and not creeping on their interaction. “Hopefully Christmas will be a longer trip?”   


“No omelette?” she asked, eyebrows perked. Mika understood her confusion - who turned down free, homemade food? “And it will be. Do you go home for Christmas?”

“I have work in a couple hours, I’ll likely eat there.” he explained, and Mika heard him opening the cabinet for something. “I’ll be staying here for Christmas.” 

“What? No! You should come with us!” Nicoletta exclaimed, putting down her knife and abandoning the food. Bucky and Mika both looked at her, surprised. Mika would love for Bucky to be there for Christmas, but knew that it would really piss her mother off to have another guest for the night. Nicoletta met her eyes and gave her a mischievous smirk. Perhaps it would be good, to give her mother a bit of a surprise. Plus, maybe Bucky would be able to mediate the arguments better than her sister. 

“I couldn’t possibly-” he started to turn her down, an expression on his face that Mika couldn’t quite figure out. Nicoletta interrupted him before he could continue.

“Nonsense. Christmas is to be spent together. You’re coming with us, no if’s, and’s, or but’s.” she said shortly, wiping her hands on a towel and walking back towards the bedroom, calling back, “Right, Mika?”

“You heard her.” Mika said, finally looking up to see that Bucky was holding out a cup of tea for her. His eyes were serious, so serious, as he looked into hers. Her breath caught for a moment, and she almost forgot that she was supposed to actually take the cup from him. She reached up, their fingers brushing as she grasped the mug.

“As you wish.” he said softly, giving her his trademark half-grin and lingering for just a moment. She blinked, her heart beating extra hard in her chest. Mika took a careful sip of the tea; somehow, he’d made it just the way she liked it. He gave her a smile, and she felt something shift. It was small, such a small gesture and a small instance, but she felt like she was seeing everything in a new light. Her sister returned then, dressed to go out into the elements and effectively ruining whatever moment they were having. Her heart deflated slightly as he turned away.

“Come on, Bucky, you and I are going on an adventure before you go to work.” she explained, pulling on more layers by the door. Mika was confused, and also slightly alarmed. No, they couldn’t leave right now. She was right in the middle of a revelation. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, going to grab her own jacket. Nicoletta snatched it from her, returning it to its home on the hook. “Whoa, am I not invited?”

“Nope. It’s going to be a surprise.” she said, pulling a hat over her honey waves. Bucky looked uncertain, but not uncomfortable. Mika turned to him for support, trying to ignore the painful  _ thump _ that her heart gave as his eyes met hers again. He gave her a shrug and the same grin, as if to say,  _ what can you do _ ? He turned back to her sister before she could say anything to him.

“Where are we going?” he questioned, pulling on his outerwear once again. Nicoletta smiled widely, hooking her elbow around his as she pulled him out into the hallway.

“We are going shopping.” she replied. That was the last Mika heard as the door shut behind them, leaving her alone in the empty apartment. The tea was still warm in her hands, and since she didn’t know what to do, she took another sip of it. Still perfect. She paced around the apartment, trying to replay everything that happened that morning, that week, that  _ year _ . All the little touches, all the little moments. She thought about everything that had lead up to this point in their friendship. Did he...did  _ she _ ...oh. Uh oh. The conclusion hit her so hard, she stopped her pacing and stood still in the middle of the living room. 

Yep. She had feelings for Bucky.


	29. Silver Bells

“So, will I see you at the Christmas Eve service this year?” Filip said, limping to his chair and trying to steady the cup of tea in his hand. Bucky reached out to help him, but the old man shook him off. He’d been stubbornly avoiding using a cane, and he was not planning on using a helping hand either. He shifted precariously for a moment before slowly lowering to the chair, his tea barely kissing the edge of the cup without dripping over. Bucky sat down across from him, the warmth from his own mug defrosting his cold fingers. Luckily it wasn’t snowing, the weather giving them a nice reprieve as the time for their travels neared.

“I’m afraid not, Father.” he replied. The service would be the next night, but for the first time since he moved to Bucharest, he would not be in town. He still felt the grip of anxiety around his heart when thinking about actually spending a holiday with someone, but he was determined to partake. That, and he couldn’t say no to Mika when she asked him so sweetly to come with her and Nicoletta to their mother’s house for the night. 

“Other plans? Or just taking a quiet night in?” he asked curiously, taking a sip from his tea. The Father periodically invited him to service, but never pressured him. Really, all he asked for was their occasional visits, which Bucky was happy to give. 

“I’ll be spending it with a friend.” he replied, and he worried his voice betrayed his affection for Mika. The wry grin Filip gave him confirmed his suspicions, and Bucky readied himself for the follow up questions that were sure to come.

“The same friend with whom you spend most of your time?” he asked further, trying to be subtle with his light, unassuming tone. However, the grin was still on his face, giving away his true intentions. Bucky almost sighed, but kept it in. This was a man of God, he couldn’t lie to or be annoyed with him.

“Yes.” he responded, hoping that would satiate Filip’s curiosity, but knowing that it wouldn’t. In fact, it only made the old man’s smile grow.

“Christmas with someone is a big step.” he sang, unable to hide his apparent glee at this turn in events. Gone was his wish for Bucky to attend mass; instead, he seemed very happy that he would be spending the holiday with a certain someone. Bucky shrugged in response, dropping his gaze to his cup to avoid the intense look he was receiving. 

“First Christmas I’ve spent with someone in...a long time.” he agreed, almost forgetting that he had to hide his casual comments betraying his age. He looked up again to find Filip staring at him with a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, one that made him a little bit nervous. 

“You know, Christmas can be a magical time.” he started, his gaze unwavering. Bucky let a smirk break across his face then, interrupting whatever he was planning to say with a side comment.

“Thought the Catholic church didn’t condone magic.” he said, making the Father roll his eyes and wave him off. The joke didn’t serve to deter or distract him from his goal, though that didn’t surprise Bucky. The man may be old, but his mind was still incredibly sharp. 

“Shut up.” he said quickly before continuing as if Bucky hadn’t said anything. “Anyway, as I was saying, the holidays are a good time to...you know, make affections known. To express things that maybe we wouldn’t be so brave about expressing at other times of year.”

“‘We’? Do you have a frog in your pocket?” he interjected. The conversation wasn’t really making him nervous; after all, Filip didn’t know Mika or any of her friends, so the danger of any information leaking was minimal. Plus, priests were still known for their confidentiality...right? The man gave him an unamused glare before advancing undeterred. 

“Stop deflecting. All I’m saying, is you’ve had this look about you for the past couple months every time you talk about her. And if you’re feeling a certain way, you might want to let her know about it.” he said, holding up his hands in an innocent gesture. Bucky put his half-empty mug aside, grasping his hands in front of him and lowering his eyes again. Filip was looking at him so intently that he was afraid the old man could see right through him, and he didn’t want to see any revelations that he might have.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” he said softly. Even though he wanted to hold Mika close and tell her every stirring of his heart, he held it back. He wasn’t sure which he was more afraid of: the fear of rejection, or the fear that she might feel the same way (however small that chance was). Their friendship was so incredibly valuable to him that he didn’t want to risk losing it, though he knew that was selfish of him. He knew he didn’t deserve the happiness, didn’t really deserve her in his life at all, but he couldn’t help but try and stay with her as long as he could before karma or fate or whomever came for what he owed. 

“And why not?” Filip pressed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs, matching Bucky’s posture. Bucky ran his thumb over his palm, the bite of the metal softened by his thick winter glove. He was asking all the questions he’d asked himself, and now he had to voice all the reasons why he thought he couldn’t tell Mika of his feelings for her. It was harder to say them out loud, versus letting them run in circles in his head.

“I wouldn’t be good for her.” he said, settling on that answer. Filip scoffed, leaning back against his chair and looking completely unimpressed with the explanation. Bucky looked up at him then, perking an eyebrow in a question that he didn’t want to ask. 

“And what, pray tell, makes you so detrimental, hm? Your unwavering loyalty? Your deep rooted concern for her well being? The fact that you care so much for her that you are willing to sacrifice your own happiness?” he said sarcastically, gesturing grandly with his hands. Bucky wondered if all priests nowadays were this concerned with their congregations relationships, or if Filip was just a special brand. 

“I’ve done things that are...unforgivable. And I can’t ask her to take that on.” he said softly. One day, his past was going to catch up with him. And he had to keep Mika safe from that. Her life, her happiness, was more important to him than most anything. Filip made a loud noise of disbelief, surprising Bucky. The man was feeling more boisterous than usual tonight, it seemed. 

“That’s a load of bull. She’s your best friend, Jones. She’s already taken all that on.” he exclaimed, as if the point were obvious. But to Bucky, this was an immense revelation. He hadn’t thought of it that way. They’d been mutually supportive for a long time, him taking on her burdens as much as she’d been taking on his. He thought of the defining moments between them: The night in his apartment, where he confessed his true identity. Her revealing the truth about her sister, and the work she’d done for S.H.I.E.L.D. The day she nursed him back to health after the warehouse fire, so concerned about his life that she’d been reduced to tears at how nonchalant he was at his injuries. All those mornings in the gym, where he taught her technique after technique to keep her safe when he wasn’t there. Perhaps the priest was right. His epiphany must have shown on his face, because Filip was looking at him with a very satisfied grin on his face.

“You make a good point.” Bucky conceded, admitting that perhaps he needed to rethink what he was going to with these feelings. The Father laughed, loud and proud, making Bucky chuckle as well.

“Of course I do. Now, come on, help me up.” he said, holding a hand out. Bucky immediately stood, taking the man’s hand in his right one and barely resting his metal hand on his back. He helped him to a standing position, and as soon as he was steady, the older man shook him off. “I’ve got to prepare for tomorrow night, as do you.”

“Thank you for the tea.” Bucky said softly, following him out of the parlor. Filip sent a glance over his shoulder, and Bucky let out a sigh. “And for the advice.”

“Better follow it, or I’m afraid I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. Now, I may not know how the Facething works, but I’ve got plenty of kids in the congregation that would be more than happy to help.” he threatened, the warning losing its sting by the hearty laugh tacked onto the end of it. 

“Yes, sir.” Bucky replied, going to the large front doors of the church. “See you next time, Father.”   


“Don’t be a stranger, Jones.” he said, waving over his shoulder as he hobbled into the sanctuary. Bucky grinned and shook his head, pushing back out into the winter evening and letting the heavy door close behind him. Part of him wanted to go straight to Mika’s apartment and tell her everything, but then he remembered how stressed she was about the impending visit to her mother’s, and decided that he would wait until after the holiday. Until then, he would just enjoy their time together as much as he could. 

They left midafternoon the next day for the Corsof family home, which was only a couple hours away from the city center. Nicoletta gave Bucky the front seat as Mika drove, though she did make sure to have running commentary detailing embarrassing family stories as they made the trip. Mika was smiling and laughing and adding to her sister’s stories, but in the brief moments of silence, Bucky could see her nerves. It made his heart constrict, his concern for her. He knew she didn’t always get along with her mother, but at least they were still on good enough terms to spend holidays together. And that was really all he wanted -  for her to have a good holiday. 

“I still can’t believe you brought flowers. And wine.” Nicoletta said as they unloaded their things from the trunk of Mika’s car. Their bags were small, since they would just be staying the one night, but the girls had presents for their mother, and even he was far removed from the manners of the 1940’s, he knew his mother would absolutely roll over in her grave if showed up to anyone’s house without the customary gift. 

“Call me old fashioned.” he replied, helping the girls with their bags before following them up the stairs to the house. It was a cute stone cottage, with a wrap around porch and a big green door that had a vintage wreath hanging on it. He thought they would knock on the door, but Nicoletta pulled out a key and unlocked it, leading them right in.

“No, you’re just old.” Mika retorted, giving him a cheeky grin as she crossed the threshold. He rolled his eyes, navigating around the things in his arms so he could nudge her with his elbow. The house smelled of something delicious; seems her mother had cooking skills that she did not inherit. 

“Mum! We’re here!” Nicoletta called, gesturing with her head to follow her into the kitchen. Sure enough, there were a few pots on the stove, covered and simmering and waiting for them. Bucky could hear footsteps on the second floor, his mental map following them as they came down the stairs and towards them. Nicoletta moved to the back of the kitchen, towards said stairs, apparently to intercept their mother before she came in. Beside him, Mika took a deep breath, steeling herself before walking towards the back as well. 

“There you are! I thought you’d be here a bit earlier. You left nearly three hours ago.” came a voice. Mrs. Corsof was short, much shorter than her daughters, but she looked at them with sharp eyes and a stiff posture that made her seem more formidable than she was. She embraced Nicoletta fully and kissed her cheek, giving Mika the same treatment a moment later. He thought their smiles looked a little tight, but perhaps that was just his own bias based on the comments both sisters had let slip prior to their arrival. Mrs. Corsof’s eyes landed on him, and her face betrayed her surprise for but a split second before she had a matronly smile back on. “And who is this?”

“Mum, this is Bucky.” Mika said slowly, as if confused as to why she was asking the question. She didn’t see what was going on here, but Bucky sure did - she had no idea that he would be joining them. “My friend?”

“Ah, Bucky, nice to finally meet you.” she said politely, never letting her expression slip. She would have made a good spy, in another life. Perhaps that’s where Raisa got the idea from. She moved toward him, shaking his hand and accepting the flowers and wine that Bucky held out to her.

“Nice to meet you as well. Happy Christmas, thank you for having me.” he said, trying to remember every shred of etiquette from his youth. She smiled again, gingerly placing the flowers and wine on the kitchen island and opening one of the lower cabinets to pull out a vase. She tried to keep her voice even, but he could tell she was slightly annoyed. Mika and Nicoletta were whispering from the other side of the kitchen, the former glaring at her younger sister and speaking through clenched teeth.

“I thought you told her we were bringing a friend.” she said quickly. He didn’t know if she knew he could hear her, but that wasn’t what she was focused on. Nicoletta’s eyes widened, and she struggled to keep her voice low.

“Me? You said you would!” she retorted. Mika shut her eyes for a second, calming herself just enough that she could keep her mother from noticing their tiff.

“You know she only agrees to things if you ask.” she pointed out, her fists clenching in agitation. Mrs. Corsof either didn’t hear the exchange, or pretended not to, going about filling the vase with water and carefully arranging the flowers. She interrupted their argument, pulling their focus back to the center of the room.

“I’m afraid the guest room hasn’t been made up yet, so you’ll have to give me a moment.” she said, giving Mika a glance that clearly said she was in trouble. Mika smiled, pretending that her and her sister weren’t about to brawl in the middle of the kitchen.

“No need for that, Mum. He can sleep in my room. And I-” she continued with a placating look as her mother made an absolutely appalled expression, “-will share Nicoletta’s room.” 

“Yea, no worries.” Nicoletta agreed, trying to diffuse the tension as it slowly built between the two. Mrs. Corsof paused for a moment before the smile was back on her face, though this one was definitely and obviously forced. Mika and Nicoletta eyed her with the same uncertain expression, and he had the distinct impression that the three of them were barely holding it together.

“Very well. Nicoletta, why don’t you show Bucky upstairs? I think Mika and I should open this up.” she said with a calm that was often prelude to storms, holding up the bottle of red wine that was resting on the counter. 

“It’s okay, I can show him-” Mika started, but her mother cut her off. She clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks burning at the light condescension with which her mother spoke.

“Oh no, dear. I need you to pull the cork from this, and use your height to reach the glasses on the top shelf.” she said by way of explanation. Bucky opened his mouth to offer to open it for her and get the glasses, but a look from Nicoletta silenced him. 

“We’ll be right back.” Nicoletta said, somehow making it sound like a comfort to her sister and a warning to her mother. She took him by the elbow, leading him towards the stairs at a less than leisurely pace.

“If my being here is a problem, I can-” he started to say, but she let out a stern noise to halt his statement. 

“No sir. You are  _ more _ than welcome here. This is just how it goes; trust me, it’s easier to let them get the first one out now.” she explained, leading him to the opposite side of the second floor to the very last room on the right. It was quaint, with a double bed tucked into the corner and the opposite wall filled with bookshelves. There was a small, slender table underneath the window, but impressions in the carpet led him to believe that there was once a larger desk there. Nicoletta made a noise of surprise as they walked in, pausing as she gave it a once-over. “Seems Mum has been redecorating. Again.”   


“Made a habit of it?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down on the foot of the bed. There were very little personal effects around the room, and if she hadn’t mentioned it earlier, he probably wouldn’t have known that it was Mika’s. Nicoletta laughed, nodding her head down the hall.

“Last year when we came home, we discovered Raisa’s room had been turned into a sewing room. I haven’t been in mine yet, but I’ll be surprised if it survived.” she replied. She furrowed her brows for a moment before stepping over to the closet, dramatically throwing open the door. The tiny closet was perfectly organized but stuffed to the brim, and Bucky had a bit of sensory overload as he took in the colorful clothes, the trinkets, and the stacks and stacks of books and magazines. Nicoletta gasped, digging a thick, pink book from the bottom of one of the piles and trying her best not to upset everything on top of it. She gave him a mischievous grin, holding up the book. “Want to see Mika’s baby pictures?”

“Absolutely.” he said, smiling back at her. Nicoletta looked excited for a moment, but then voices started drifting up from the lower level as whatever fight Mika and her mother were having started escalating. He thought he heard the words  _ selfish _ and  _ inconsiderate _ , and a glance at his counterpart told him that it was not thanks to his super hearing. She sighed, putting the book on the table and tapping it fondly. “I’ll just, uh, leave that there for you to peruse later.”

With that, she turned and exited the room quickly. He followed, wondering why Nicoletta’s steps were so unbelievably loud as she bounced down the stairs. The voices in the kitchen quieted, and he realized that the volume was on purpose, alerting them to their arrival. When they finally got into the kitchen, Mrs. Corsof was focused on the stove, acting preoccupied with stirring the dishes for them to eat that evening. Mika had her hands braced on the island, facing away from them. The wine bottle remained unopened in front of her. 

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly, laying a gentle on her back. She turned toward him, a blush receding from her cheeks. She gave him the biggest smile she could muster, grabbing the wine and cork screw.

“Yea, all good.” she said, letting out a long breath and popping open the bottle. Nicoletta slid four wine glasses onto the butcher block countertop, giving her sister a look that was more a grimace than a smile. She filled them silently, the bottle holding just enough for the four servings, before sliding one to Bucky and another to her sister, the third going towards the side for her mother. The last one she held up to her lips, taking a big gulp of it before giving him a real smile. “You got the good stuff.”   


“Of course. You know I don’t half ass anything.” he responded, low enough that only she could hear him. She visibly relaxed then, affectionately touching his side before clearing her throat and standing up straight, renewed and ready for the rest of the evening. 

“Anybody hungry?” Mrs. Corsof asked, turning back to them and smiling in the way mothers do when they’re pretending they didn’t just argue with their child. 

“Starving.” Nicoletta spoke for the group, patting her mother’s shoulder affectionately as Mika fetched dishes from the cabinet. It seems Nicoletta was right - now with the initial quarrel over and done with, the family seemed to be moving a little smoother. He could see as the knot between their mother’s shoulder blades started releasing, until she was finally at ease. He helped serve the plates and take them to the table, making sure to fetch a second bottle of wine as instructed. That also helped the situation. 

By the time the third bottle was open and the plates were empty, the argument and stress from before was long forgotten. Nicoletta and Mika were alternating telling embarrassing stories about the other, passionately (and loudly) adding commentary. Their mother had even better remarks to add, considering she saw these events as an objective third party observer. Bucky was laughing so hard his stomach was cramping, his cheeks hurting from smiling. It had been so long since he’d been around a family, even one he wasn’t a part of. His heart ached for Christmases past, even the later ones when all his blood family was gone. At least then he had Steve, and after Steve, he had his brothers in the 107th, and after the 107th, he had the Commandos. Christmas Day was a rough estimate at best and it was usually spent huddled around a fire, but he wouldn’t trade them for the world. Now, sitting at the dining room table with Mika and her family, he finally realized that maybe he had a few more Christmas celebrations left in him yet. 

“So, Bucky, what about your family? Are they far away?” Mrs. Corsof asked, trying to bring him into the conversation. It was polite of her, really. And her smile gave away that she could, in fact, be very warm and motherly when she wanted to be. It was an inevitable question. Bucky hesitated for a moment, and under the table, Mika’s fingers gently grasped his hand and squeezed. He cleared his throat, searching for the best response to give her that wouldn’t throw a wet blanket over the mood of the room.

“I, uh, I’m afraid I’ve been without family for a very long time.” he said evenly. It was technically true, as he didn’t think he had any living relatives left. He knew Steve was alive, somewhere, but that was too complicated to explain. Her smile faded, and she started fiddling with her napkin in an effort to rid herself of her nerves. Seemed she and Mika had that in common.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, dear.” she said quietly, looking at him with pity that only a mother could produce. Mika’s hand still held his, giving him a small comfort in this awkward conversation. He didn’t fault her mother for asking these things; in fact, he’d expected it, prepared for it. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing.

“Thank you.” he responded, looking down at the table. He didn’t know what else to say. Mika’s hand left his, instead settling on his shoulder. Her touch was so gentle that he felt goosebumps erupt underneath the long sleeve of his shirt, and her eyes were so serious that he almost forgot to pay attention to her words.

“Well, we’re very happy you’ve decided to join us for Christmas.” she said, nothing but sincerity in her brown eyes. He gave her a half a smile and a nod.

“Happy to be here.” he replied, reaching toward her. He stayed his hand for a second before convincing himself to be brave enough to finish the gesture, resting his hand on her knee. For just a moment, he felt like it was only the two of them in the room. He couldn’t move his gaze away from her, couldn’t shake the energy connecting them. Between her hand on his shoulder and his hand on her knee, he felt a level of warmth that he could only associate with Mika. Nicoletta cleared her throat, effectively breaking the spell. He pulled his hand back to his lap, turning back to the other women. 

“Mum, you have presents to open.” she said, though she was giving Bucky a grin that made him wonder if she was the telepath in the family. Mika tapped her hands on the table.

“Yes, you do.” she iterated, pushing away from the table. Mrs. Corsof nervously looked towards him, and he could practically see the thoughts rolling through her brain. She hadn’t known he was coming, and didn’t have any presents for him under the tree. He didn’t care, of course. He had everything he needed, and it would not hurt his feelings. He stood up, gathering the plates in front of them. 

“That’s alright, we can open them another time.” she said politely, trying to make sure he wasn’t offended. He wished he could plainly say how little she needed to worry about that. She was already kind enough to open her home to him, that was more than enough of a Christmas miracle.

“I believe you’re outnumbered.” he said, giving her a pointed look before taking the dishes to the sink. He heard as Mika and Nicoletta went to their mother, convincing her to go to the living room for gifts.   
  
“Come on, Mum. It’ll just take a minute.” Nicoletta said, and he didn’t know if their mother actually agreed to it or if they were just forceful enough to push her into the other room. He laughed to himself, carefully washing and drying the plates before returning them to where Mika had gotten them earlier. After that, he cleaned the pans and wiped down the counters; a clean kitchen was the least he could do for all Mrs. Corsof’s kindness. They were still in the other room when he finished, talking lowly with smiles on their faces. He leaned against the door frame for a moment, watching the familial interaction. He could see how, when Mika and her mother put aside their differences for the moment, Mrs. Corsof was obviously very happy to have her two girls home with her. Bucky’s throat felt tight, and he suddenly felt like he was intruding on a very tender moment. Without a sound, he slipped away, finding the back door and stepping out onto the porch. A wide porch swing sat to his right, and he hesitated for a just a moment before going and sitting on it. It was cold outside, but the air was still, and as he sat there gently rocking, he craved a cigarette for the first time in a long time. 

He didn’t know how long he sat outside, simply looking out over the yard and counting the stars in the sky. His meditation was interrupted by the door opening, Mika poking her head out from the warmth inside. She gave him a bright smile, which he reflexively returned, his heart stuttering for a moment at the sight of her.

“There you are.” she said, crossing her arms tightly around herself and coming to sit next to him. She immediately pulled her knees up, tucking her toes under his leg to keep them warm. “Are you alright?”

“Great.” he responded with a smile. She was shivering slightly but pretending not to, and he didn’t ask before slipping his jacket off and handing it to her. She looked like she wanted to protest, but the desire for heat won. She pulled it on, the size of it looking comical on her smaller frame. He took a gamble then, reaching out and resting his arm around her knees. The gesture, while new, felt right and comfortable. He wanted to hold her close, wanted to keep her warm. “It’s...been a while. Since I’ve had a family to celebrate Christmas with.”

She rested her cheek against his shoulder, nuzzling it slightly. “Well, now you have me.” she said softly, looking out over the grass as well instead of looking at him. He looked down at her, but she didn’t see the surprise on his face. She hadn’t said  _ us _ , she’d said  _ me _ . Again he was struck with the desire to kiss her, to tell her how he felt. But he knew this was not the right time. He would have to be patient, and hope that he didn’t burn up from the inside before he found the perfect moment.

“And you have me.” he said softly. Of course, she didn’t realize the degree to which he meant his statement, but that was neither here nor there. He thought of resting his cheek against the top of her head, but decided that was too intimate a gesture. Instead, he just said, “Thank you. For inviting me tonight.”

“Thanks for coming with me.” she said, finally turning her head to look up at him. Her eyes seemed even bigger and more sparkling in the starlight. “I think my mum likes you.”

“She doesn’t  _ dislike _ me.” he corrected, though until that moment he didn’t realize how badly he wanted her mother to approve of him. He swallowed the feeling down; he could not afford to get his hopes up. He didn’t deserve a woman like Mika. That thought was always in the back of his mind, threatening to strangle him in his lowest moments of self doubt. But another thought, the one that said maybe she felt the same, maybe he didn’t have to chase this idea of  _ good enough _ , was becoming stronger. He didn’t deserve her love. But what if...what if she could love him anyway? He stopped that train of thought, returning to the moment as Mika shifted away from him. For a second he was scared that she was retreating from him due to fear or nerves, but when she looked at him, she was still all smiles.

“Come on, it’s freezing. And I’ve yet to give you your present.” she said, holding her hand out to him. He took it, and she helped him up from the swing, holding on just a moment longer before letting go and walking towards the door.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” he said quietly, following her back inside. The lights were lower now; Mrs. Corsof had retreated to her bedroom, and Nicoletta was in a puddle of blankets in front of the fire, idly sketching in her sketchbook. She winked at them as they walked by, her attention never wandering far from the page in front of her. Mika led him up back upstairs, and this time his trip was much quieter and much less tense. 

“It’s nothing big, just something functional. I think you’ll like it.” she murmured as they reached the second landing and walked down the hallway. A brief swirl of anxiety circled his stomach, but it wasn’t to the same degree as last Christmas. That’s because he was prepared this year. She moved towards the room across from the one Nicoletta had shown him to earlier; he assumed that was the other bedroom. “I’m going to change into pajamas and grab it, okay?”

“Okay. Gives me time to get yours.” he said, his hand on the doorknob as his nerves swirled again. This time, because of the uncertainty of the gift. He’d purchased it weeks ago, and every day since had looked at it, willing it to tell him if she was going to like it or not. Her eyebrows rose, and she was unable to contain her surprise - and a little bit of curiosity. She paused in the doorway, one corner of her mouth lifted in a grin.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” she said, but her tone gave away her excitement. He shrugged, stepping back into the bedroom.

“It’s nothing big, just something functional.” he said, mimicking her words from earlier. Her jaw dropped for a moment before her smile returned. She ducked into the other room, and he heard her bag zip open. He grinned to himself, going into his room for the night and carefully opening his bag. The small, brightly wrapped package sat at the top of the pile, where he figured it would be best protected from potential injury. He placed it on the bed before untying his boots and slipping them off, trading his jeans for his sweatpants. In his apartment, he normally slept shirtless, but he did not think that would be appropriate for this setting. Just as well, the soft cotton shirt that Nicoletta had convinced him to purchase a few weeks ago would be comfortable enough. He had just finished folding up his pants and placing everything neatly on the floor at the foot of the bed when a soft knock sounded from the door, Mika opening it just a peek.

“Decent?” she asked, stepping in before he could answer.

“As decent as I’ll ever be.” he remarked with a grin, though the comment was lost on her as she took in the new state of her old room. He couldn’t tell if she was confused or shocked, but either way she was not expecting it to be organized the way it was.

“Wow, Mum’s really done some work up here.” she said, and he couldn’t tell if her feelings were hurt by it or not. She spotted the closet, whose door was still open to divulge all its secrets. She smirked then, eyeing all her old things. “Ah, there it is.”

“Nicoletta also mentioned baby pictures.” he said, nodding his head at the pink photo album on the table. Her eyes snapped to it, a look of fear crossing her face. She tried to casually lunge for it, but Bucky was closer, and much faster, snatching it from the table and holding it away from her. She gave him a stern look, holding a finger up at him in warning and looking very much like her mother in that moment.

“Bucky. Give me the album.” she said firmly, holding her hand out for it. He moved it further away, reaching down to pick up the small parcel on the bed.

“Do you want your present?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow. Her eyes flitted between the book and the package, trying to decide which she wished to salvage - her dignity, or her curiosity. She held up her own brightly wrapped box threateningly.

“Do you?” she countered. He had to admit that he did really want his present. It was bigger than he thought it would be, and he had no idea what could be inside. But to admit such a thing would be admitting defeat, and he couldn’t have that. He put his thumb under the cover of the album, lifting it just enough to show that he could open it easily.

“I could just take a look right now.” he said pointedly, leveling his gaze at her. He never had to admit his thoughts, he just had to make her believe his bluff. She stared at him for a long time, trying to decide which was worse - him seeing the pictures as they were, or having to continue playing this game of chicken. Eventually, her desire to see his face when he opened his present outweighed her embarrassment of her younger self. She groaned, her face going skyward for a moment as her resolve crumbled. 

“Fine. But I get to defend myself and all the fashion choices.” she said, offering a compromise. He could see the pictures, as long as she could explain them. And honestly, he wanted nothing more than to hear her tell the stories behind whatever gems were hiding in the book. 

“Done.” he said, tossing the photo album onto the bed and holding out her present. She handed him his, going to sit at the foot of the bed and tucking her legs underneath her. He sat down as well, making sure there was plenty space between them even though he wished she was closer, like when they were down on the porch swing. She carefully tore the paper off and opened the box, her face lighting up as she carefully plucked her gift from the paper. “To replace the one that was broken.” Bucky explained.

“I love it. It’s beautiful.” Mika breathed. The mug had a careful spattering of flowers around it, with delicate, hand-painted little birds flying through the blooms. This was not something he found on the shelf of some run-of-the-mill home goods store. No, work like this was likely commissioned. And it was stunning. She always thought of the broken floral mug as  _ his _ , but this one? This one was hers. And it was now her favorite. She looked up with a brilliant smile. “Thank you.” she said sincerely, clutching it to her chest. 

“You’re welcome.” he replied, and he looked at her so warmly that she thought her heart might burst. She wanted to leap across the bed and embrace him, but the likelihood of her either breaking her new mug or breaking his present was too high. Instead she just gestured to the box in front of him.

“Go on, open yours now.” she said, bouncing in anticipation. He carefully removed his glove before prying apart the corners of the paper. His brows furrowed in concentration, as if this were a very difficult, very important task. When he finally held the box in in his hands, he couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across his face. This wasn’t one of the little grins or smirks that he usually gave; no, this was a real smile. 

“It’s perfect.” he said, holding the single serve coffee maker up to look at it closer. The smile was still on his face as he analyzed every bit of it; it was the most excited she’d seen him in a very long time. He was happy to have it - he’d considered purchasing one for himself, but could never quite convince himself to. Her heart soared as he looked up at her, his blue eyes serious as he said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now we can both enable each others’ caffeine habits.” she said lightly, carefully tucking her mug back in its protective paper. She thought for a moment before crawling across the bed, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. His arm circled her waist, pulling her just a little bit closer. She thought he rested his head against hers, but couldn’t be sure. “Happy Christmas, Bucky.”

“Happy Christmas, Mika.” he murmured, his voice soft against her shoulder. She pulled away, taking both of their boxes and putting them on the little table before collapsing back on the bed, picking up the pink album and settling down against the pillows. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” she said with a huff. He stared at her for a moment as she laid on the bed next to where he was sitting. Was he to lay down next to her? Should he stay where he was? She was looking at him expectantly, the photo album on her lap and her finger messing with the frayed corner. With uncertainty, he laid down on the other pillow. He didn’t know how close they should be, and didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She took the initiative then, moving closer so that her head was leaning on his shoulder and her thigh was resting against his. She finally flipped open the photobook then, and he was met with old photos of a chubby little baby, laughing gleefully.

“There’s me! I was, um, a rather  _ healthy _ weight.” she said, laughing at her own joke. He let out a low chuckle as well, taking in the vision of a few month old Mika, grinning with her cherub cheeks and reaching with pudgy fingers. She flipped the page, and he saw a toddler holding onto her precariously. It almost looked like Mika was trying to kick herself free of the other girl’s embrace. “That’s Raisa. She fancied herself my caretaker. But then when I would cry she would try and leave me in Dad’s woodworking shed.”

“That’s not how you’re supposed to handle crying children?” he asked sarcastically, relaxing slightly as he got used to their position. He wanted to move his arm so it was under her head, wanted to press his lips to her hair, but he refrained. She looked up at him with an admonishing glare.

“Of course not. It’s too hot in there. You’re supposed to leave them in the back bedroom with a window cracked.” she said, turning her attention back to the photos. She carefully leafed through the pages, giving him details about the photos. He saw the progression as she grew up, from the chunky baby to an energetic toddler to a skinny kid. There were pictures of her playing soccer and rugby and basketball, and pictures of Nicoletta in a little cheerleader uniform there to support her. She, in turn, was Raisa’s cheerleader, making the happiest faces as her sister won award after award. She had just entered her teenage years when the book ended, just before the  _ really _ questionable fashion choices.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” he said as she closed the album. She laughed, sitting up and crawling over him to go put the book back on the table.

“Thank you for listening to me ramble about my childhood.” she said, turning back to him. He sat up on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his thighs and looking at her with a smile. She absently picked at her nail polish, trying to be brave enough to hold his gaze even though her heart was nearly beating out of her chest. “So, what do you think? Good Christmas?”

“Best I’ve had since ‘41.” he said with a smile, and she laughed more than the joke really deserved. He looked at his hands for a second, his expression becoming more serious as he returned his eyes to her. “Thank you for sharing Christmas with me.”

“Of course.” she replied immediately. She was going to add,  _ what are friends for? _ , but never had she been more acutely aware that she wanted to be more than just friends with him. She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away. Was it her imagination, or did he look disappointed at that? It was probably just wishful thinking. She picked up the box with her mug in it, holding it close to her. “Sleep well, Bucky. I’ll see you in the morning.”   


“Goodnight.” he said, watching her every move as she walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her and stepping across the hall to Nicoletta’s room. Her room was still untouched, the walls covered with various sketches and paintings from years past. She put her gift on the desk, figuring it was a safe place for it, then promptly face planted onto the bed next to her sister.

“You’ve got it bad.” Nicoletta mumbled without opening her eyes.

“I know.” Mika replied, her voice muffled by her pillow. She hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and even then, she didn’t remember feeling it this  _ strongly _ . 

“Gonna tell him?” she asked, her voice sounding only slightly more awake. Mika took in a deep breath, then let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Eventually.” she said, face still in the pillow. She groaned, a little louder than she meant to, making Nicoletta elbow her sharply in the ribs. “Sorry, I just...I like him so much it pisses me off.”

“Then fucking do something about it.” she sighed. Mika finally removed her face from the pillow so that she could glare at her sister, but she’d already rolled over so her back was to her. She let out another dramatic breath before turning the other way, not bothering to be gentle as she tried to settle. She laid there for a long time, her thoughts keeping her awake as she stared at the wall. She’d been sitting on her feelings for weeks now, trying to figure out if there was even a chance that Bucky felt the same way. Usually she could tell with men - the ones she’d dated before weren’t exactly known for being subtle - but with Bucky, it was a mystery. While she’d noticed more little touches, more serious looks, it wasn’t enough for her to think yes, we’re on the same page. 

Until tonight. Tonight was the first time she could see what Nicoletta was saying this whole time. It made her want to get up and march across the hall and confess everything, and to see what he said in return. But it was Christmas, and they were with her family, and it was not the right time.

She just hoped the right time was soon.


	30. Butterflies and Little Birds

Mika forgot how difficult it was to curl her hair.

Well, maybe it wasn’t that it was particularly difficult. It was more that she wanted it to be absolutely  _ perfect _ , which was really emotionally and physically taxing. She stood in her bathroom, still in just her bra and underwear, and wondered if she’d forgotten everything she knew about doing her hair. Six out of ten fingers had small burns on them, though they did not sting as much as her pride at this moment. Part of her thought the spirals probably looked fine, it was just that she’d been staring at them for too long. Surely that’s what made them look wrong. She groaned, putting down the curling iron and picking up her phone.

“Alo?” Elena answered the video chat, her eyes widening as she made a suggestive noise at Mika’s state of undress. She was already dressed with her hair done up, but only one of her eyes had makeup on it. “Oh, what kind of a phone call is this?”

“A panicked one.” Mika said, perching on the edge of her counter. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong with my hair. Something’s not quite right.”

“And why are you so concerned, hm? Want to look good for a certain someone?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and shaking her shoulders. 

“I mean...kind of, yea.” Mika admitted. She couldn’t hide her feelings from her best friend, though she wished she could; Elena had been going in full force trying to set up her and Bucky. Elena squealed at her confirmation, forgetting she had her phone in her hands and clapping them excitedly. 

“Okay okay, let me see it.” she said, settling down with a serious look. Mika carefully passed the phone around her head, making adjustments where Elena said. It really wasn’t as bad as she thought, only requiring a couple of changes. Even then, it felt much better whenever she was finished.

“Thank you, El, you’re a life saver.” she said, letting out a breath of relief. With an unbiased seal of approval, her confidence definitely rose. Elena waved her off.

“Yes, yes, I know. See you in a bit, I’ve got to finish this work.” she said, gesturing to the half of her face that wasn’t made up. They said their goodbyes, blowing kisses at the screen and disconnecting the call. Mika braced herself on the bathroom counter, taking a deep, steadying breath as she eyed herself in the mirror. She didn’t know why she was so nervous about tonight. After all, she and Bucky had just agreed to go to the wedding together as friends, and the word  _ date _ was never used. It was to be just like all the other nights out. And yet, for some reason, it felt different. 

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present and pulling out her unorganized bag of makeup. This part she was definitely more confident in, and her hand felt much steadier as she carefully painted on the various products. Her timing was definitely cutting it closer than she would have liked, but it should be fine. She had plenty of time until Bucky would be calling on her to go. With her face done and her hair perfect, it was time for the ultimate decision - which dress to wear. She eyed her three options: the maroon one that arguably looked the best but was the hardest to dance in, the green one that was the most comfortable but a little less formal, and the black one that was classic and perhaps a little boring. She thought of calling Elena again, but figured that would take too long. She knew, any other time, she would choose the comfortable one. But if she was going to show off for her neighbor - whom she had painfully deep feelings for - and perhaps propose taking their relationship to a different level, then she needed to feel and look her best. She picked up the maroon dress, stepping into it and pulling the straps over her shoulders. She was just twisting her arm around to reach for the zipper when a knock sounded from the door. Shit, Bucky was already here. 

She clutched the dress to her chest, making sure it stayed up as she walked to the door as fast as she could without running. She checked through the peephole to make sure it was actually him before opening up. Bucky stood with his hands in his pockets, dressed in slacks and a jacket and his customary baseball cap. He gave her a grin, perking an eyebrow at her.

“Not quite ready?” he asked, his voice as soft as his gaze. She was stunned for a moment by the sight of him, looking sharp and cleaned up. Except for the baseball cap, of course. That would have to go. She blinked, remembering that she needed to actually talk to him and not just oggle at how handsome he looked.

“Almost. I could actually use your help, if you don’t mind.” she replied, turning to present the open zipper of her dress to him. For a moment, he didn’t move, and she wondered if she was being too forward, or if he didn’t understand what she was asking. But then she felt his hand gently touch her back, the pressure light as if he were afraid to touch her fully. She held her breath, hoping that the zipper wouldn’t be hindered by any weight she might have gained during the recent holidays. He slowly tugged the zipper up until it found its home between her shoulder blades, and she relaxed fully. Perhaps she’d overestimated her eating the past few weeks, as the dress felt more comfortable than the last time she wore it. “Excellent, thank you. Now it’s your turn.”

“I thought my zipper was up.” he said, looking down at his trousers as if they had betrayed him. Mika laughed, shaking her head and pulling his baseball cap off. He made a reach for it, but she moved just fast enough for him to miss it. He gave her a serious look, holding his hand out. “Give it.”

“Absolutely not. You can’t wear a suit and a baseball cap. Come here, let me fix your hair.” she said, reaching up and carefully combing his hair back with her fingers. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, though not by her closeness or her touch. He took her wrists, his touch so purposeful and controlled that for a second she forgot one of his hands was a prosthetic. He stilled her movements, pulling her hands down. 

“I can’t. I have to stay covered, in case...I can’t be found. I can’t risk my face getting online, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger.” he said quietly, his thumb lightly rubbing over the pulse point on her wrist just once. His eyes were locked on hers, and his face was so serious that she knew for once he was speaking the absolute truth as it was in his head. She nodded, pursing her lips and pinching her brows together in thought.

“That’s a good point.” she said, and his face said that he thought she was conceding the point. She gave him a smirk though, remembering something Maria had told her the week before. “But what if I told you that there were no phones allowed at the wedding?” 

Bucky made a disbelieving face, looking at her like she’d grown an extra head. “That seems unlikely.” he replied. Most people nowadays had their phones glued to their hands, which was all well and good to him. In his day, everyone had their noses in the newspaper. People would always be looking for distractions.

“It’s true. Maria doesn’t want phones and everything in the pictures, so they’ll be in a little basket during the reception. Very progressive of her, Elena has already complained on three separate occasions about it.” Mika explained, going back to fixing his hair. She bit her lip, trying to get it to stay exactly where she wanted it, but it kept falling to the side. She gestured for him to follow her, running back to her bathroom to grab a comb and a jar of pomade of unknown origin. She thought Nicolae left it at her apartment at some point or another, but she couldn’t be sure. He looked uncertain as he stepped under the lights in her bathroom, eyeing her warily as she brandished the comb like a sword. She put some of the product in her hands, running it through his hair before taking the comb and slicking it back, using just enough product to make it stay in place. When it was all nice and in place, she stepped back with the smile and held her hand towards the mirror. “So, what do you think?”

Bucky’s eyes took in his appearance, his jaw going slack at the vision. He raised a hand to his hair, touching it slightly as if making sure it was real. “I...I look like my old self.” he said, a grin on his face. His hand went to the scruff around his chin, and he gave a quiet laugh. “Except for this, of course. Had to keep myself clean shaven.”

“I have a razor if you want it.” she said, pointing to the shower. Though, if she was honest, she liked the beard. He looked incredibly handsome in that moment, with his hair fixed and his suit on. Nicoletta had done a good job taking him shopping the month before. He smacked her hand down, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he let go.

“No time for that. We need to be off.” he replied, reminding her of the hour. Her eyes widened, and she quickly moved out of the bathroom. She could hear him laughing behind her as she dug through her closet floor, looking for her black heels. When she finally emerged victorious, he was still grinning, hands back in his pockets as he waited for her. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed the small black clutch to match, stuffing her keys and phone into it.

“Right, right. How do I look?” she asked, holding her arms out and doing a little twirl for effect. He smiled as she completed her turn.

“Beautiful.” he breathed, and his look was so serious that it made her heart skip a beat. She licked her lips, remembering too late that she’d put a stain on them. Good thing it was eat and drink proof color. 

“Well thank you. You look amazing as well.” she said with a smile, wondering a second too late if the compliment was too much. She meant it, of course, but she didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. But he smiled at her this time, giving her a shrug.

“Did my best. You can’t have a slob on your arm tonight.” he replied, and the subtle reminder that they were going together was enough to make a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt in her stomach. She raised her nose up, feigning arrogance.

“That’s right. And you’ve cleaned up rather nicely.” she said, smoothing the lapels and shoulders of his jacket. He smiled at her, nodding his head towards the door.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding his elbow out for her to grasp. She took hold of it, pulling her phone out and tapping the few keys to order them a car. By the time she’d pulled on her coat and they’d made it down to the sidewalk, it was at the curb waiting for them. He furrowed his brows as she led him to it.

“This is us.” she said, making him pause despite the cold. She pressed her legs together, trying to keep the warmth close as he tried to get his mind around this.

“A car? The church is close by.” he said, evidently confused. Mika didn’t know if it was a logistical thing or a financial thing, but to her, it was a health thing.

“Bucky. I can’t walk that far in these shoes and this temperature.” she said, kicking one foot out to make her point. He tilted his head to the side, as if he’d not considered this.

“Right.” he said, stepping forward and taking hold of the handle and pulling the door open for her. She gave him an impressed look, carefully sliding into the backseat of the car. She left enough room for him to get in as well, telling the driver their destination as he got in and got settled. It really was a quick drive, and she almost felt bad about getting a car for such a short trip, but she had no shame about avoiding the blisters on her heels and the hypothermia in the rest of her body. Night had just fallen when they pulled up to the church, the stars glimmering in the clear night sky. Usually the stained glass windows were dark at this time, but tonight they glowed, painting the sidewalk with their colors. They could hear the organ playing, even though they were still outside the walls, the volume increasing as they walked up the steps and Bucky held open the door for her.

He paused at the doors to the sanctuary, though they were propped open in anticipation of the night’s guests. Mika stood with him, her hand still tucked into his elbow as he eyed the rows of pews. “Everything alright?” she asked, laying her other hand on his arm for good measure. He leaned his head towards her to answer, though his eyes stayed on the large cross at the back of the room.

“I haven’t stepped inside a church since…” he left the explanation hanging, but she could fill in the blanks. Though he did not speak of it often, she knew he carried a tremendous amount of guilt in his heart for the things he did as the Winter Soldier. It made the back of her eyes prickle as tears threatened to form, because to her, he was a sweet, and caring, and gentle man. She did not see the shadowy parts of himself that he saw. She only saw someone who was strong and good, and had pieced himself back together after being broken in the worst ways.

“Well, I’ve been told the Church is always there to welcome you home.” she said softly, rubbing his forearm in a comforting manner. He finally turned to her then, a ghost of a grin playing across his lips.

“Think I’ll get struck by lightning if I step in there?” he asked softly, and while his tone was light and teasing, the lines around his eyes revealed his true concern. She let out a snort of a laugh, stepping closer so she was hugging his arm to her chest.

“I certainly hope not, since I’ll be hanging onto you. But I think you’ll be just fine.” she said, making sure to give him an extra big smile. She then noticed how close their faces were, and while she remembered a time when Bucky was not comfortable with physical affection, now he was not moving away. She held his gaze for a moment longer before stepping back, tugging him towards the doors. “Come on now, we’ve got to get a good seat.”

Bucky still hesitated, but soon gave in, allowing her to pull him into the sanctuary. He stiffened as he crossed the threshold, almost as if he was really afraid that God would strike him down for stepping into His house. But the moment passed without any adverse event, and Mika felt him relax as they continued down the aisle to a pew towards the front. They found the rest of their friends, who’d left enough room at the end for them to sit. Mika greeted Elena with a kiss on each cheek, reaching past her to squeeze Nicolae’s hand and wave at Alexei on the other side of him. Behind her, Bucky nodded at the lot of them as they sat down.

“Thought you two weren’t going to make it, the rate you were going.” Elena whispered as the organ’s song changed. Mika smacked her knee, pulling her coat off and laying it across her lap.

“You know I’m good at being right on time.” she retorted, settling into her seat. Elena opened her mouth to respond, but Mika shushed her as the procession started. The entire assembly stood, watching as the priest moved down the aisle, followed by Jonas and Maria and their brother and sister, respectively. Mika grasped her hands together at her heart as she spotted her friends, looking so beautiful and so happy as they slowly walked to the front of the church. That’s how she knew she was getting older: weddings always seemed to make her cry nowadays. They continued standing as the priest led the greetings, and still as a song was played on the organ, only sitting once instructed to. The whole time she watched Jonas and Maria, who looked like they weren’t paying any attention to what was going on around them. They only had eyes for each other, lost in their own little world as they proclaimed their love for the rest of it. 

Next to her, Bucky shifted in his seat and laid his arm behind her. For a moment, she wondered if he was going to put it around her shoulders, but instead he just rested it along the back of the bench. She could feel him looking at her out of the corner of his eye, and she tried very hard to read his mind. She thought of all the moments when they’d been in the gym, when he waited for her permission before touching her, and decided that was what he was doing at that moment. As such, she leaned over so that she was nestled against him, the sides of their legs barely touching. His arm stayed on the bench, but his hand dropped slightly. She felt his thumb resting against the top of her arm, every once in a while tracing a little circle and sending goosebumps down to her wrist. His side was warm, ridding her of whatever chill had followed them in from the elements outside. She loved being next to him like this, regardless of her feelings; she could still remember the time when he shied away from her, when he was uncomfortable with any affection. And now, he held her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She always forgot how long Catholic ceremonies went, and her legs were a little stiff by the time the mass was over and they stood to leave. Bucky put a hand on the small of her back, keeping her steady as she sidestepped out of the pew. She noticed his hand stayed there for an extra moment before dropping away, leaving a cold spot behind. They followed the flow of people out of the sanctuary, congregating in the foyer as they waited for a car to take them to the reception at the pub. Nicolae was chastising Elena for her tears during the ceremony, the latter of course throwing Mika under the bus and telling of her crying as well. When Bucky was asked for confirmation, he simply held his hands up, determined to be impartial. 

Mika was surprised when the priest limped up to them, changed from his robes and into his more casual garb. He greeted Bucky like an old friend, holding his hand out for an affectionate shake. “And who is this?” he asked, gesturing to her and giving her a warm smile.

“This is Mika.” Bucky introduced with a grin, once again his hand going to her low back. This time, he kept it there. The priest gave him a look as if he were impressed before turning his attention back to her, shaking her hand as well.

“Mika, I’m Filip. It’s nice to meet you.” he said, his grip stronger than she anticipated for such an old man. 

“Nice to meet you as well. Beautiful service.” she said, nodding her head towards the sanctuary. He looked rather proud of himself in that moment, tugging on his jacket and standing up as straight as his stiff spine would allow him.

“Thank you. Thought it was some of my best work myself.” he said, laughing at his own joke. Mika was about to ask how he knew Bucky when Elena appeared at her elbow, saying that their car was here. She turned back to the Father, not wanting to be rude, but he was already waving them towards the door. “You kids have fun. Go celebrate love.” he said, and she could have sworn he winked at Bucky. She tried to put the pieces together as they walked back out into the cold, going to the large SUV waiting for them.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in the church for a while?” she murmured, poking his ribs with her elbow. He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye again, squeezing her arm closer to him for a moment before relaxing.

“Haven’t been in the sanctuary. Only made it to the parlor off the foyer.” he explained, opening the door for her. Mika was disappointed when Elena climbed in right after her and sat, but tried not to think too hard about it. They would be together all night, she could handle being away for a few minute drive to the pub. When they arrived and walked through the door, Mika wondered if they’d gone to the right place at all. It was brighter than usual, the tables covered with white cloths and a whole buffet of food set up on the bar top. Hans was there in a suit, looking very anxious as servers moved all around his pub.

“Alright there, Hans?” Nicolae asked, clapping him on the shoulder and making him jump. Yes, he was very stressed out indeed. “We missed you at the ceremony. Jonas and Maria really making you work their wedding?”

“No, no, I offered.” Hans explained, his eyes still darting about as he watched the strangers set up and start receiving guests. “Their other venue backed out on them, and I wasn’t about to let the best day of their lives fall apart.”

“Oh, Hans, you sweetheart.” Elena said, putting her arm around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. Hans sighed, his arm around her waist as he very obviously tried not to freak out at the situation. It wasn’t that he minded them using his pub for the reception - in fact, he preferred it, because he thought his pub was the best in Bucharest - it just made him nervous to have so many workers that he didn’t know. He could tell most of them were trustworthy, but some of them were not.

“Just doing my civic duty.” he replied, patting her hip and pulling away from her. He walked by Bucky, pausing just long enough to mutter, “Keep an eye on bowtie and braids over there, would you?” 

“Got it, boss.” Bucky murmured back, making Mika perk an eyebrow in question. He shrugged when he saw her expression. “I’m part time security here too.”

“Of course you are. Come on, what drink can I get you?” she asked, putting her hand on his arm as she stepped back towards the bar. He gave her a confused look, bordering on offended.

“I believe it is I who should be getting you a drink.” he pointed out. It may have been a few decades since he’d been in the dating game, but he at least remembered that much. Mika looked like she’d been expecting that answer, and was very proud of her ready response.

“Normally I would agree. But it’s an open bar, and I know you care more about the table than your drink. This way you don’t have to pick one or the other.” she replied, giving him a triumphant grin. He was surprised for a moment before smiling warmly at her, shaking his head.

“You know me so well.” he replied, a short laugh escaping him. Mika dramatically flipped her curls over her shoulder, speaking as if it were obvious.

“I know.” she said, taking one more step toward the bar. “So, whiskey neat? Or coffee?” 

“The first, please.” he replied, still smiling at her fondly. Her heart fluttered behind her sternum, and she willed herself to keep her composure. She was going to have to confess her feelings soon, or else she was going to explode. She squeezed his arm, turning and going to the bar before she forgot what she was doing.

“Please tell me you’ve made a move.” Elena said, coming up beside Mika so fast that it startled her. She let out a long breath as she linked their elbows together, weaving their way to the bar.

“No, not yet.” she said, her heart rate slowly returning to its normal rhythm. Elena made a frustrated noise. “Soon! Soon. I just...I’m not one hundred percent sure he feels the same way.” 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” she replied, making another noise of frustration. “You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re my best friend, and you’re so smart, but you’re also a goddamn idiot.” 

“You’re not very encouraging.” Mika bit back, sending a glare her way. Elena pulled her to a stop, putting her hands on her cheeks and focusing her attention.

“Listen to me. I’m not gonna waste my breath saying how happy you two look together, or how he looks at you like you hung the moon, or how literally everyone except for you two apparently see what’s going on.” she started. Mika wanted to interrupt and point out that she did, in fact, just waste her breath saying all of that, but she continued undeterred. “I’m only going to say this: stop. Being. An idiot.”

“Yes ma’am.” she replied with a curt nod. Elena was right; they’d been dancing around this for too long. It was time to take the plunge. “Tonight. I’ll tell him tonight.” she said, knowing that if she didn’t have Elena to hold her accountable, then she’d likely chicken out again. And she really, really needed to stop doing that.

“That’s my girl.” she responded, allowing them to continue on their adventure towards the bar. 

They settled at their table with their drink, Mika carefully laying down Bucky’s whiskey before sitting down herself. He smiled his thanks, and once again his arm came to rest on the back of the chair behind her. They enjoyed their drinks until the happy couple came in, making their entrance to a round of applause and a little bit of hollering. They took their seat at the table up front and received their plates of food, thus releasing everyone else to make their way through the buffet. It was definitely a little late for the supper hour, but since it was New Year’s Eve, it was assumed that they would be there past midnight. The conversation was light and the booze flowed readily, though Mika held herself to only two drinks; that was enough to give her the courage she needed for their conversation later without putting her in a completely inebriated state. 

When the music started, she made sure to drag Bucky to the dance floor for the traditional dance he’d learned a few weeks prior. It took him a minute to remember the steps, but by the end of the song he was stepping and spinning like a true Romanian. He laughed as he pulled her close, helping her stay upright when her heels tried to make her fall. She kissed his cheek as the song faded out, and this time he couldn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks. She’d hoped he would stay on the dance floor with her as the more modern songs came on, but he gave her an apologetic grin and a brief excuse of “we didn’t go over these dances” before returning to the table. That did make her sad, but a tipsy Elena refused to let her stay that way, deciding that she was now her dance partner. Luckily, between her shoes and her dress (which, while it fit better than last time, was still difficult to dance in), she had an excuse to join him in the chairs, scooting hers close and pretending that she did it so they wouldn’t have to yell to talk to each other. 

As the night started to wind down, Mika was very glad that she’d taken a seat. She was tired; it had been a long and dramatic year, but it was ending well, she thought. And she was happy to watch her friends dance and chat with Bucky as it came to a close. 

“Mika! Come dance with me.” Alexei said, interrupting their conversation. He tried to pull her from her chair, but she wriggled her hand from his grasp.

“No thank you, Alexei.” she said, nodding her head towards Bucky. “I think I’ll just stay here.”

“Come on, it’s almost the last song.” he tried to persuade her, though his words were just slightly slurred. He had not been prepared to make an argument.

“I’m good. Go on.” she said lightly, nodding her head towards a brunette girl that had been eyeing him all night. He pouted, his gaze hardening ever so slightly as he looked between her and Bucky. She gave a pointed look towards the brunette again, diverting his attention. He let out a loud sigh, actually rolling his eyes and pouting like a child.

“Fine.” he said, stomping off in the direction of the other girl. Mika grimaced, suddenly feeling guilty. Even if the girl thought he was cute, she would quickly find out that his personality was not.

“Don’t think he was too happy about that.” Bucky said lowly, looking to where Alexei was sulking. Mika shrugged; she honestly could not care less.

“He’s a big boy, he’ll get over it.” she replied. She patted his leg affectionately, deciding to be a little bold. “Besides, I wanted to save the last dance of the night for you.”

“I feel honored.” he said, and though he tried to say it sarcastically, it sounded completely serious. Her words stuck in her throat as he looked at her, and once again she was lost in his eyes, feeling like she couldn’t look away. The spell was broken as the DJ spoke into the microphone, announcing that this would be the last song before the big send off for the happy couple. Bucky’s brows furrowed as the song started up, the gentle crackling of a vinyl record player peppering over the strings. “Wait, I know this one.”

“Yes, you do.” she said as the song he’d played in her apartment floated from the speakers. “I suggested it to Maria a while ago - I didn’t think she’d make it the last song, though.” 

Bucky smiled, standing up and holding out his hand to her. “May I have this dance?” he asked, the formality of his words softened by the grin on his face. She placed her hand in his, carefully returning to her feet.

“Of course.” she replied, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. His right hand held her left, his metal arm coming to rest around her waist. He pulled her close this time, much closer than when they were dancing in her kitchen. She was close enough to feel the steady beat of his heart, close enough to lay her head against his as he slowly led her through the steps. He moved more confidently this time, and she felt like she was positively floating.

The end of the song came entirely too soon, and for a moment Mika refused to move from their embrace. Eventually, she pulled back just enough to look at him, to see him as he stared at her so intently she thought he might be reading her mind. He moved a hair closer, and she held her breath in anticipation of a kiss.

However, that DJ took that moment to announce that everyone needed to be outside, for one last surprise to end the night. Bucky took a step back then, and Mika nearly said  _ fuck it _ , wanting to ignore the instructions. But everyone was moving towards the doors, and now was not the time. She put on her jacket and collected her clutch and her phone from the basket, and this time Bucky took her hand as they walked out onto the sidewalk with the rest of the guests. Everyone looked around, trying to see what exactly this last big hurrah was going to be. Across town, the church bells started tolling, signalling thirty seconds to the hour change. Ah, so it was nearly midnight. Someone started the countdown as the bells chimed, marking the seconds until the clock turned. As it reached its final  _ clang _ , a loud  _ boom _ erupted above them, the sky painted red as fireworks shot off the roof. Mika saw them for just a moment before she was pulled roughly to the ground, her sight going dark as someone covered her. It took her a moment to realize that it was Bucky, his metal arm covering the back of her head and her spine as he hugged her to his chest, ducked below the rest of the guests. She pushed back from him to find his eyes wide and frantic, looking for weapons that weren’t there.

Bucky was in a panic. He should have known, should have  _ known _ , that there would be fireworks. He should have prepared himself for this, especially given what happened last year. He knew they were fireworks, logically, but the booms and the flashes were so familiar that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was back in a war zone. But this time, his priorities had changed. He had to protect Mika, keep her safe. The vibranium of his arm was bulletproof, so he put that between her and the world. The other side of her, he would shield with his own body. She tried to push away from him, but he held her fast; the booms were still echoing around them, she needed to stay covered. Then suddenly, the blast sounds stopped. Well, not completely. He could still feel them vibrating through the air. But Mika’s hands were covering his ears, blocking out the noise. He loosened his grip then, allowing her out of his cocoon of safety. She held his gaze, and while he couldn’t hear her words, he could still read her lips as she said  _ you’re okay, everything’s okay, just keep looking at me _ . 

And he did. He kept his eyes on her, focusing on the curve of her mouth and the warmth of her hands on his ears until the flashes above them stopped. She was close, close enough to hold and close enough to kiss, but his body was still paralyzed. His memories moved like shadows in the back of his mind, threatening to take hold of him. But he kept his eyes on her, thought of her, pushing away everything else that wanted to claim him. 

When the air was silent and the crowd was starting to disperse, she removed her hands, the sounds of the world overwhelming him for a moment before his senses recalibrated. He took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Her hands were still on his shoulders, her eyes full of concern as he tried to calm down. He thanked whatever deity was listening that he hadn’t been fully lost in a memory like last time, knowing that would have been completely detrimental.

“I’m sorry.” he said, his voice hoarse and his mouth dry. His muscles ached as he stood up again, and she followed, refusing to let go of him.

“Don’t apologize. Are you alright?” she asked, her hands going to his arms as she rubbed them in a soothing manner. It made no difference to his prosthetic, as he could just feel the pressure of her touch, but it still helped overall. 

“I’m alright. Are you?” he questioned in return. He didn’t know how hard he’d pulled her, and he gave her body a quick once-over to check for injuries. She brought his face back up, looking at him intently.

“I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything’s okay.” she said, her tone soft and gentle. He took another deep breath, opening his mouth to apologize again and being interrupted by Elena stumbling over to them.

“We’re going downtown! You two coming with?” she asked, one hand on Nicolae and the other waving between them. Mika didn’t even glance at Bucky to see what he thought.

“No, we’re just going to head out. It’s late.” she said, her hand sliding down his arm until it reached his hand. She intertwined their fingers, holding them tightly and making his heart pound. The touch was comforting, familiar. Elena gave her a devilish grin.

“Uh huh. That’s what the kids are calling it these days.” she said, laughing and throwing her arms around Mika for a brief hug before planting a kiss on her cheek. “Right, have fun! See you later!” 

“Bye, Elena.” she replied, though she wasn’t sure her friend heard her before traipsing off towards her next target. She looked to Bucky then, giving his fingers another comforting squeeze. “Ready to go home?” 

“Let’s go.” he said softly, taking her hand more securely as they started walking towards their apartments. She moved a little slower thanks to her heels, but he didn’t mind. This, walking hand in hand with her through downtown Bucharest, was the best thing he’d experienced in a long time. He felt a warmth through him that he never thought he’d experience again, and a level of comfort despite the panic attack he’d been sucked into earlier. Logically he knew that his improvement in the panic attacks was likely due to the healing of time and the various measures he’d investigated (i.e. meditation, yoga), but it also helped to have Mika there. And after the way she’d held him during the fireworks, and the way he’d held her when they were dancing, he knew he couldn’t hold his feelings in any longer. He had to take the risk and tell her, and whatever happened after that would be her choice. 

“Want to come in for tea?” Mika asked as they reached the top landing of the building. She looked hopeful, for sure, but she was also fiddling with her keys, a sign of nerves. What was she nervous about? What happened with the fireworks? No, if that had made her uncomfortable, she wouldn’t invite him in. He knew that now. 

“Please.” he responded, following her as she went into her apartment. She kicked her shoes off but stayed in her dress, going and filling the kettle and putting it on the stove. She wasn’t drunk - in fact, by his count she’d only had two drinks early on in the night. But he would still make her peppermint tea.

“So, what are your goals for the new year?” she asked quietly, her back to him as she put the tea bags in the mugs and got out the nutmeg and honey. It was a simple enough question, expected really, but Bucky felt his heart jolt at it. This may be the perfect opportunity. He was glad she didn’t bring up the fireworks; he felt like it was fairly obvious what had happened, and he didn’t want to revisit it.

“Be more honest. More open.” he said. He didn’t intend to start the conversation this early, but the chance had fallen into his lap, and he had to take it before he lost his nerve. He leaned against the island, facing her and watching as her hands stilled.

“With who?” she asked quietly, hesitantly, picking at the label on the nutmeg container. Could it be…? Had he somehow read her mind? Or were they just accidentally on the same wavelength? She felt like her insides were frozen as she waited for his answer. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. 

“With you.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. She turned around then, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. He decided it was hopeful; that was the only way he was going to get through his next words. “I have feelings for you, Mika. Feelings that I never thought I would have again - didn’t think I was capable of feeling again. And I know I’m out of practice at best with these things, but I care for you very deeply. With my past, I’m not the best suitor, but I just...I couldn’t hide it from you any longer.”

“Why do you sound like you’re trying to talk yourself out of it?” she asked lightly, giving him a grin. She was wringing her hands, but not in a nervous way. She was trying to contain her excitement. He laughed; of course she would be giving him shit at a time like this. She, on the other hand, winced while he was looking away; that was not the way she wanted to respond. He remembered the resolution he’d given her just moments before.  _ Honest. Open _ .

“Because I do not think I’m good enough for you.” he said plainly, leveling his gaze with her. It was her turn to laugh then, running a nervous hand through her hair.

“Bucky, you’re so far out of my league we’re not even in the same sport.” she said incredulously, making him raise his eyebrows. She stepped to him and took his hands in hers, not shying away from the metal plating of the left one. In fact, she held it tighter, as if she wanted to be sure he felt it. “But I feel the same way. I’ve felt the same way for a while.”

“Really?” he asked, his shock registering plainly on his face. He definitely wanted her to return his sentiments, but hadn’t dared hoped for it. He didn’t want to set himself up for crushing failure. She laughed again, her hands going to his cheeks to hold his attention.

“Yes, really. Hell, I told Nicoletta a week ago that I like you so much it was pissing me off.” she said, unable to keep the wide smile off her face. He grinned at that, letting out a relieved laugh as well.

“Well, it wouldn’t be me if it didn’t piss you off a little bit.” he replied, making her laugh again. She trailed her hands down his arms, intertwining their fingers again. The gesture made his heart race, and he hoped she couldn’t feel his pulse in that moment. “So...what happens now?”

“Well, I mean, it’s the twenty-first century. Dating can be whatever you want. We don’t really have to define it, if you don’t want to.” she said, suddenly shy. He was entirely surprised - women in his time were always eager to tie you down, but she almost seemed hesitant to offer that, as if that weren’t something desirable. God, men really were even more stupid in this time than before.

“And if I do want that?” he asked, and it was her turn to be surprised. She thought he would be hesitant, but she realized that was a mistake on her part; Bucky was never one to half ass anything. “If I want you to be my girl? If I want to be your man?”

“I, for one, would be completely okay with that.” she said, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Her fingers were gripping his tightly, and she thought her heart might explode. This had gone better than she’d hoped, better than anything she could have planned. And she was glad that it had worked out that way, because no matter how strongly she felt about him, she didn’t want to take the chance of pushing him. She was glad he started the conversation. He loosed his right hand from hers, pausing for just a moment before tenderly laying it against her cheek. He had one last question, one that he didn’t think he would ever get to.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmured, running his thumb over the apple of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes shining as she looked back at him. She looked like she did on her birthday, she looked  _ happy _ . 

“I’d like that very much.” she replied, her voice just as low. She stepped closer to him, as close as she’d been at the end of the song earlier, when he’d almost kissed her at the wedding. Her hands rested against his chest as he leaned forward, slowly and softly pressing his lips against hers. It was different than the kiss they’d shared before - this one was full, and deep, and spoke of all the emotions they’d been hiding. His senses were completely overwhelmed by the way her lips moved on his, the feelings heightened by both his enhancements and affection for her. He was just reaching his limit, reaching the point where he thought he might just explode, when the kettle started singing on the stove. She pulled back, still smiling, and went to make their tea. He would certainly be okay with more of  _ that _ happening, though it might take a little practice. As Mika grinned over her shoulder at him, he figured he would have a willing partner. He still didn’t consider himself worthy of her, but for whatever reason, she wanted him. For once, he wasn’t going to question it. He knew there were things she may want in the future, things that he may not be able to provide, but that was a conversation for another day. Today, he wanted to relish in the elation of a new relationship. Today, he wanted to be optimistic.

He didn’t know if he had the capacity to truly love anymore, but he desperately hoped so. 


	31. Some Kind Of Wonderful

Bucky had known many women in his life, but none quite like Mika.

Then again, there were a lot of factors that played into that. He couldn’t completely remember the people he knew in his past life; hell, he still couldn’t remember the name of the blonde he’d mentioned the other day. Mika was also a product of her time - by his definition, bold and confident and beautiful. Back in the ‘40’s, women had to play coy due to the societal constrictions of the era, and felt the need to impress at all times. But she was casual and comfortable, and carried herself with an ease that he found incredibly attractive. She was also kind of a smartass, which he also found incredibly attractive.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” he asked, turning away from her stove to see her sitting on the kitchen island, legs swinging gently as she watched him cook. She was glad someone was finally using the nice pans her mother had purchased her all those years ago. She gave him a grin, spinning her laptop around so he could see the code flying across the screen. He couldn’t make sense of the numbers and letters, but he knew she could, which was impressive to say the least.

“I am.” she said proudly, her heels making a dull, rhythmic  _ thunk-thunk _ as she let them tap the edge of the island. “It’s not my fault that the program takes a while to find the bugs.”

“You built a program...to fix your program?” he asked, genuinely curious. Technology had always interested him, and while he had to avoid it for the past couple years to prevent being found, now he could learn about it just by being adjacent to his girl. His heart thrummed at the thought,  _ his girl _ . But it wasn’t in anxiety or distress, it was in excitement. Well, and a little bit of anxiety. 

“I did. Efficiency, you know?” she said with a shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Of course, it was to him, but then again his knowledge was limited. She reached for him, and he gently took her fingers in his hand and allowed her to pull him closer. He stood between her knees and thought of resting his hands on her legs, but was still too hesitant to initiate contact, especially with his metal arm. Instead, he put them on either side of her, leaning on the counter as she placed her forearms on his shoulders. She grinned, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “That way, I have more time for fun things.”

“Oh? Like what?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as if he really didn’t know. He knew what she meant, of course, because they’d had several variations of a similar conversation over the past few days. But he liked hearing her explicitly say that she enjoyed her time with him. She looked up, as if she were thinking hard about her answer.

“Oh, like having lunch with you. Or watching movies. Maybe a little bit of this.” she said, tugging him closer so that she could gently press her lips to his. He could feel her smiling into the kiss, but that faded as it became a little deeper. He didn’t feel as overwhelmed as their first kiss - the first  _ real _ one - but he still felt like all his senses were turned to eleven. Her lips were warm, and she tasted of the tea she’d been drinking minutes before. He could smell her shampoo, feel her fingers as she tangled them in his hair. Kissing her was intoxicating, but like all vices, he reached a point where it was too much for him. He pulled back then, willing himself to stay close instead of completely stepping away, and gave her an apologetic smile.

“Still getting used to that.” he murmured, chuckling lowly to cover his nerves. He wished that he could just let go completely, and kiss her and touch her the way he wanted, but he was still so worried about hurting her accidentally that he had to limit himself. She smiled at him again, her hands moving to pat his cheeks affectionately.

“Well I guess we’ll just have to practice a little more.” she said wryly, leaning back to give him his space before he moved to go back to tending to their lunch. She laughed to herself, making him glance at her over his shoulder. “You know, for not having kissed anyone in seventy-four years, I’m happy to say you haven’t lost your touch.” 

That certainly boosted his ego a bit, though he would never admit it. He smiled, trying to feign confidence as he said, “Told you I hadn’t.” She gave him an annoyed look, reaching with her leg so that she could kick him in the rear as he turned back to the stove. He jumped slightly at the contact and she worried she overstepped, but he just shook his head and laughed. “You know, back in my day, it wasn’t proper to kiss a girl unless you’d taken her out on at least three dates.”

“Really? Nowadays, the third date is usually reserved for something a little more intimate.” she said suggestively, hopping off the counter so she could get two plates for them from the cupboard. She held the dishes as he picked up the pan so he could plate the  _ parjoale moldovenesti _ . It was the first time he was cooking for her just the two of them, but he was confident in his recipe. The meat patties were perfectly pan fried, and he served them next to a side of greens. She raised her eyebrows as he finished, letting out an appreciative whistle as they sat down at the kitchen table. 

“Regardless, I would like to take you out on a first date, if I may.” he said softly. God, when was the last time he asked a girl out on a  _ date _ ? Mika smiled brightly, tapping her chin thoughtfully with her fork for a moment.

“I would love that.” she said, giving up on her fake skepticism and perking up considerably. She gave him a cheeky grin, taking a bite of her greens before gesturing towards him with the utensil. “But I can’t help but feel like we already had a first date.”

“Was I present and conscious?” he asked, once again covering up his chagrin with humor. He knew his memory was bad, but certainly it wasn’t  _ that _ bad. He thought he’d remember taking her out. Though, perhaps he was so nervous he’d blocked it out. She laughed, shaking her head.

“Yes, you were! Last weekend.” she explained, looking at him as if that answer would make sense. He shook his head, making a noise of disagreement.

“The wedding? That didn’t count.” he replied. Thank goodness, one less thing for him to worry about besides forgetting a moment with Mika. She was so special to him, and he wanted to store every second that they had together. In the back of his mind, he was still convinced that the world was going to come crashing down on them at any moment, but he tried to focus on the positives and live in the moment. It was a foreign concept, but he was working on it.

“That so counted!” she replied, her mouth full for a second before she remembered to swallow. She gestured with her hands as she spoke, trying to emphasize her point. “We got dressed up, we went out, we ate, we danced, we kissed at the end of it. Sounds like a date to me.”

“No.” Bucky said indignantly. He was done with dating as a group. It was fine when he was trying to get Steve out of the house, but it was a different time, and now he was a different man. Time was too precious, and so was Mika. “‘Going out’ is not the same as taking you out. And I would like to take you out.”

She rose her eyebrows at his insistence. She didn’t think he would be one to go out on the town; after all, it was hard enough for her to convince him to hang out at the pub. But he wanted to give her a proper date. It made a warmth bloom behind in her chest that was so strong she almost couldn’t contain it. “Very well. Where are we going on our date?”

“That...is a surprise.” he said, though in actuality he hadn’t quite finalized his plans between two options. He hated surprises himself, but he knew that Mika loved them. And he wanted to make sure that she had a good time. She gave him a wide smile, unable to hide her excitement.

“Oh, exciting.  _ When _ is our date then?” she asked instead, resting her cheek on her hand and looking at him with more affection than he felt he deserved. Truth be told, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken her on an honest-to-goodness date, and she was glad that she would have this with Bucky. He was so different than anyone else she’d dated, and she was loving it. 

“Tomorrow night.” he replied. That much he knew for sure. She clapped her hands, nearly dropping her fork in the process and not caring if she did. 

“Alright, and how should I dress?” she questioned, taking another bite of her food. He should have anticipated this question, but he had not. He furrowed his brows, trying to think of a proper response. It was still the dead of winter, so their activities would be indoors. While in his heart he wanted to take her someplace fancy, someplace grand, but he couldn’t help but try and maintain some sense of logistics. 

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” he said finally. No matter if she was all dolled up or free of makeup and in her pajamas, he thought she was beautiful. She perked an eyebrow.

“I mean, this is my comfortable clothing.” she said, gesturing to her thick leggings and a flannel that she may or may not have stolen from him in the past week. He shrugged; he thought she looked just fine.

“Seems perfect to me.” he replied, making her roll her eyes. That certainly was not very much help, but at least she knew she didn’t have to don dress and heels in the winter winds. He only smiled, giving her no other ideas as to her wardrobe. 

“Alright, alright.” she said, finishing her plate and pushing it away from her. “By the way, that was amazing.”

“Good as your mum’s?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even. She’d eaten his food from the pub, yes, but this was different. This was just for her. She gave him a conspiratory grin.

“Don’t tell her, but it may be better.” she said, standing up and picking up their dishes, pausing to press a kiss to his cheek. He ducked his head as she took the plates to the sink, trying to hide his smile and his blush. This of course made her smile as well, her heart bleeding affection for him. 

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.” he said, his chest burning with pride. He didn’t usually make the more traditional Romanian meals, but he wanted to try for her. Though he might be putting more pressure on himself than necessary, since she wasn’t exactly a picky eater. 

“I loved it. Thank you for making it for me.” she said, finishing with the washing and putting the dishes away. Her program was still running on her laptop, so she made sure it wouldn’t lock before turning back to him. “Do you have time for an episode of  _ Master Chef _ , or must you be off to the pub?” 

“I’m afraid I have to go. Since it’s so cold, everyone wants stew and roast, and that takes a little extra time.” he explained, disappointed. He didn’t want to leave so soon, but he did have to pay the rent if he wanted to continue living next door. She pouted for just a moment before giving him an understanding smile.

“Well, have a good day at work. And I’ll see you tomorrow.” she said brightly as he stood up and walked to her door. She went to him, resting her hand on his arm and getting him to pause before he left. He gently touched her side, waiting for her to step a bit closer before carefully pulling her in for a kiss. This one was brief (unlike the one earlier), but it was still tender, still heartfelt. Every time they kissed, Mika felt like he was making sure it would be worthy of being their last one. She wondered if part of him thought it was. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” he agreed, holding her for just a moment longer before letting himself out. Mika locked the door behind him, stopping just long enough to smile widely to herself and do a little dance before picking up her laptop from the island and going back to pretending to work. Now that she had something to look forward to, the work days were going to go by even slower. 

The past week had been wonderful. It was always a risk, developing feelings for your best friend, and an even bigger risk to do something about them. She’d been nervous about this step, not knowing exactly how it would go, but it was  _ easy _ to be with Bucky. While she still had the butterflies associated with a new relationship, there was none of the nerves. She didn’t feel like she had to be another version of herself for him, didn’t feel like she had to hide her worst parts. This was, by far, the best relationship she’d ever been in. 

The following evening, Mika found herself once again standing in her underwear and staring at her clothes. Bucky said just to dress comfortably, but there were different levels of comfort. She thought she needed to be a little more put together than sweatpants and a tshirt, but a dress seemed too fancy. She finally settled on her dark jeans and a dark floral blouse, digging through the pile of shoes until she found some matching ankle boots. She’d kept her makeup light and her hair simple, and for once was actually ready whenever he came knocking at her door. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, with his hair pulled back and that trademark grin on his face. In his hand he held a single short stemmed rose, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. The gesture was so simple, but so sweet, that it took her a moment to recover. 

“Hello, handsome.” she sang, accepting the flower and tugging him in for a kiss. He seemed very proud of himself in that moment, so much so that he almost forgot to hesitate before kissing her. She grinned as she stepped away, saying, “I’m just going to pop this in some water, and we’ll be off.” 

“Sounds good.” Bucky said, holding the door open as she rifled through her cupboards to try and find a vase. When she realized she didn’t have one, she settled on a champagne flute, deciding that would be good enough. She quickly added water to it and displayed the rose on the kitchen island, adjusting it just so before walking out the door. She was at the top of the stairs before she realized Bucky was not following her, and turned with a confused look on her face. “Keys, Mika.”

“Dammit.” she sighed. She’d been doing so well recently, and he had a smug look on his face as she went back in and grabbed them from where she’d tossed them on the island in her flurry to find a vase. Once she had her keys, she tried again, and this time he let the door close behind her. It was even colder outside than she thought it would be, and she immediately latched onto his arm to try and steal some warmth from him. Her fingers were still freezing, but she could deal with it, assuming they weren’t walking terribly far. He seemed to read her mind and moved to take her hand; she thought he was just going to hold it, but instead he slipped both their hands into his jacket pocket, surrounding it with warmth from both his jacket and his skin. She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, happy to be this close to him. 

He led her in a direction she didn’t go often, the streets a little bit unfamiliar to her. It had never occurred to her that he might go places besides the ones she took him to, but he walked so confidently that it was obvious he’d been this way many times before. She could feel his eyes on her as she took in the storefronts, and could hear the grin in his voice as he asked, “Would you like to know where we’re going?” 

“No no, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” she replied, though she was dying to know. He chuckled lowly, leading her down and alley between two buildings to a narrower, quieter street. The foot traffic was minimal, the sidewalk illuminated by a different sort of streetlamp than the bigger roads. Most of the storefronts were closed for the night, but there was one that still had its doors unlocked. It was a small patisserie, one of which she’d never heard before, and she wondered how he managed to find it. 

“After you.” he said, letting go of her hand so he could open the door for her. She nodded her thanks, stepping into the building. It was warm inside and smelled of spices, and it turned out to be much bigger inside than she anticipated. There were two long glass cases on either side at the front of the shop, but the back was completely open with tables and chairs and comfortable looking sofas and armchairs. It was also more popular than she imagined, as many people were scattered through the seated area. A small stage lined the back wall, and a girl probably in her late teens or early twenties was setting up her guitar. Mika snuck a look back at Bucky, who was carefully keeping his face neutral so that she wouldn’t see how nervous he was. 

“Live music and treats? Very well done indeed, sir.” she said in an impressed voice, and she could have sworn he grew a few inches taller at the praise. She reached out and took his hand again, interlacing their fingers and tugging him towards the counter. She was glad to see that there were some savory pastries behind the glass as well, as she wanted Bucky to enjoy his night too. She still periodically had him try desserts that she made, but had yet to find one that wasn’t too sweet for him. 

“Trying my best.” he replied as she looked over the selection. The thirty-something woman behind the counter smiled brightly at them, giving them a warm welcome and asking how they were doing that evening. Bucky have her a polite response, but Mika could only smile before getting distracted again by the desserts in front of her.

“God, I want one of everything.” she muttered, mainly to herself. Bucky laughed next to her, his fingers tightening just slightly on hers for a brief moment.

“That would be ridiculous.” he replied. She shot a glare in his direction and he added, “You should get two of everything, that way you can enjoy them tomorrow.”

“That’s the kind of positivity I need in my life.” she said, leaning over and kissing his cheek quickly. Once again, the affection made him shy, and he chanced a glance at the woman behind the counter. She was just smiling knowingly at them, as if she knew something they didn’t. 

“You know,” she said casually, resting her elbows on the counter. “we have a special tonight, where if you buy three pastries you get a fourth for free.”

It wasn’t even a hard sell. Bucky turned to Mika, raising his eyebrows. “Sounds like you need to pick four, then.” he said, nodding his head towards the display. She blinked a couple times; sure, the pastries weren’t elaborately expensive, and she could definitely enjoy four of them, but there was no need for him to spend that much money on her. 

“Are you sure? I don’t need that many.” she asked, not wanting to be presumptuous or overstep. She’d been called  _ spoiled _ once by a guy she went on a few dates with when she first moved to Bucharest, and the comment always stuck with her. Now she tried to avoid asking for anything extra, just in case. 

“Get what you want. Let me treat you.” he said, with the quiet certainty that she adored about him. While he was still getting accustomed to his physical affections, this was something about which he felt completely confident. He’d buy her the whole shop, if she wanted, though he might have to set up a payment plan in that case. She gave him a warm smile, gripping his hand tightly before turning back to the woman at the counter. They gave her their orders, and Mika took their coffee and tea and went to go find a seat while Bucky paid and waited for their pastries to be plated. All of the tables had been taken, but there was a loveseat tucked in the corner that had yet to be claimed. She made a beeline for it, putting Bucky’s coffee down on a side table and settling into the plush cushions. He joined her shortly thereafter, handing her a plate with all her treats and easing next to to her. The small sofa was just wide enough to fit the two of them, and while she hadn’t chosen the seat for that purpose, she was certainly happy about it. They sat with their plates on their laps and their legs pressed against each other, both feeling the happiest they had in a long time.

They finished eating just as the girl up front began her set. Her voice was clear and pretty, reminding Mika of crystal chandeliers and winter nights. She tucked one of her legs underneath her so her knee was on Bucky’s thigh, clutching her tea to her chest as they watched the girl sing. Her cheeks warmed as he rested his hand on her leg, his touch gentle and sure. She knew he was still having trouble feeling comfortable expressing physical affection with her, but she was happy to see that as long as she started it, he had no trouble following. The rest would come with time. 

“How did you find this?” she whispered, leaning close to his ear. The girl was very talented, but it seemed like she was still building up her original works. Most of the things she played were covers of a lot of songs that Mika liked, and she almost enjoyed the girl’s versions more than the originals. Overall, she was very impressed. 

“Google.” he said shortly, giving her an impish grin. She didn’t need to know that he’d spent more than an hour pouring over the pages, trying to find something in this modern world that would be fun and also not a strategic nightmare. Back in his day, it was easy to find a band; they were a dime a dozen at the dance halls around Brooklyn. But concerts these days were expensive, and often the good seats sold out quickly. It had taken careful planning and plenty of YouTube research, but he’d managed to find something as close to perfect as he could. She looked so happy, and so at ease, that he couldn’t help but think that maybe he’d done well. 

It was nearing midnight when the girl finished her show, a quiet but fervent applause following her last song. She started packing up her equipment as the patrons steadily made their way to their feet, bundling up to take on the winter temperatures outside. They hadn’t intended to stay for the entire set, but the girl was good, and the warm drinks were free, and neither Bucky nor Mika found themselves wanting to untangle from their little couch in the corner. But the patisserie was closing, so they had to get up and face the fact that the night was ending. 

The walk back to the apartments was slow, despite the freezing temperature. With a few mugs of tea in her and her man holding her close, Mika didn’t really feel the cold. She was almost sad as they reached the building, and as they stopped at her door, she found she really didn’t want him to leave. 

“So?” he asked quietly, his hand still holding hers. He was trying not to be nervous; he knew the date wasn’t extravagant, but he hoped she enjoyed it anyways. 

“I had a wonderful time.” she replied, her voice unwavering. For the first time in a while, she didn’t have to lie to a guy about a date. “Easily the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“Full of shit.” he said, laughing and ducking his head down to try and hide his reaction from her. He couldn’t, of course. She knew him too well by now. She loosed her hand from his, putting her hands instead on his cheeks so that she could command his attention.

“Seriously, Bucky. Thank you for tonight. It was perfect, and very special.” she said. In fact, if she thought he would say yes, she would invite him inside to stay the night. And if he was who he used to be, he would have. But she knew he would want to take things slow, so instead she just gave him the most reassuring expression she could.

“I completely agree.” he replied, sounding more relieved than he meant to. Even if he’d had the best night in recent memory, he was still worried that she had not. But, like every time before, she’d managed to say something to help calm every nerve he had. She was still looking at him expectantly, her hands moving from his cheeks to his chest. He decided to be brave then, tugging her a little closer so that he could slowly dip down and give her a tender kiss. She responded readily, her fingers holding the front of his coat so that she could convince him to kiss her for just a second longer. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers and running his thumb over the bone of her hip. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” she concurred, stepping back and unlocking her door. She looked over her shoulder one last time to see Bucky in the same position, giving her a last glance and a grin before ducking into his apartment. She let herself into her own, closing the door behind her and resting against it. She touched her lips with her fingertips before grinning to herself, letting out a happy sigh.

Yes, it had been a good night indeed.


	32. Comfort Over Style

Mika sat at the bar, nervously tapping the bar top and awaiting the arrival of her friends. Tonight would be the first night she and Bucky would be out at the pub since taking their big step together, and while the rational part of her brain knew that everyone would likely be happy with this change, she couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious after the lack of support from her last so-called relationship. Not that whatever she had going on with Dominic was an actual thing, certainly not as real and true as what she had with Bucky. But it wasn’t nothing.

“Stop that.” Hans said from down the bar where he was wiping down glasses, sending her a playful look. Mika stilled her hands, tucking them to her lap and giving him a sheepish grin. She was always fidgeting; that was a habit that she needed to break. 

“Sorry.” she said quietly, only to notice that now she was picking at her nail polish. She considered sitting on her hands, just to make herself stop messing with anything she could find. 

“Why are you freaking out about tonight?” he continued, sliding closer to her so they could talk a little easier. She didn’t ask how he knew she was freaking out, as she figured she would get the same response as when she used to ask about how he knew everyone’s orders without asking - that it was obvious. She shrugged in response, not really having an exact answer. At least, not one she was willing to admit out loud. 

“I guess just the unknown. Don’t know how everyone is gonna respond to me and Bucky.” she finally answered, resting her elbow on the bar top and leaning her head heavily on her hand. Hans scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically at her confession. 

“Please. They’ve all seen this coming for months.” he replied, his tone unimpressed. He furrowed his brows as a thought occurred to him. “Wait, you haven’t told Elena yet?”

Another reason she was nervous for tonight. It’s not that she didn’t  _ want _ to tell her best friend, it was just that she hadn’t been able to find the right moment. She didn’t want to just drop it on her via text, or tell her in passing during their short phone conversations. No, Elena deserved better than that. “I just haven’t seen her in a couple weeks is all. And honestly, it was kind of nice being in the little bubble of just the two for us for a couple weeks.” Mika responded. While Bucky was all in with her, he was still getting his feet underneath him again with their relationship. He tried so hard to be easy going about it, and there were definitely more and more moments where Mika could see a glimpse of the man he used to be, but he still needed to take things slow. That was alright with her - they were already so close as friends that they got to skip all the awkward “getting to know you” bits of a new relationship and instead skip to the slow blurring of boundaries and connecting in ways they hadn’t before. Like with kisses, which were Mika’s  _ favorite _ .

“Oh, she’s gonna be mad at you.” he sang, putting up the last of the glasses. He looked over her shoulder for a second, and his glance confirmed her suspicions. “Hope you know what you’re going to say, cause she’s here.”

“Was just gonna wing it and depend on Bucky to protect me, honestly.” she said lowly, immediately dropping her nervous expression and exchanging it for a wide smile as she felt Elena’s arms around her. She squeezed the other woman in a hug, and Elena quickly let go and sat on the stool next to her.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” she said shortly, though she didn’t look offended. Truth be told, Elena had also been very busy the past couple weeks. It was a new semester, which meant she had to deal with new students in her lab. She reached out and held Mika’s hand, a knowing smile on her face. “And you know, you still haven’t given me a straight answer about New Year’s.”

“I was just waiting to tell you in person.” Mika offered as an excuse, which made Elena’s eyes go wide and a squeal escape her. She smacked her friend’s leg a few times, unable to contain her excitement. 

“Tell me  _ everything _ .” she said, leaning forward and giving her the most rapt attention. Mika’s stomach turned as she told the whole story, but this time it wasn’t with nerves - this time, it was because she was happy and excited. She could feel herself blushing as she walked Elena through the conversation she and Bucky had, but she didn’t care. Elena was obviously very on board with this turn of events, and Mika felt bad for doubting her at all. Elena only ever wanted what was best for her, and she’d made it very clear that she thought that was Bucky. 

“And now we’re just...together.” she finished lamely, summing up the whole of the story. She felt like a teenager at a slumber party, talking about boys and sipping on drinks. Granted, when she was a teenager the drinks weren’t quite as  _ strong _ , but still. Elena made another loud squeal before jumping on Mika in a hug, squeezing her tightly and shaking her back and forth. The affection was certainly a little over the top, but she appreciated it all the same.

“Fucking  _ finally _ !” she exclaimed, holding Mika by the shoulders and shaking her again for good measure. “Damn, Hans won the pool, but I don’t even care. It was worth it.”

“You all had a bet going?” Mika asked incredulously, perking an eyebrow. How did she manage to miss this? And when did all her loud mouth friends become so good at keeping secrets? Hell, what else were they hiding from her?

“Of course we did.” Elena stated, taking a sip from her drink as if it were a normal thing to gamble on your friends’ love lives. “Hans had New Years Day. I said you two were going to dance around it until May. We had to reset it three times because it was supposed to be the closest without going past.”

“You’re horrible, the lot of you.” Mika said, but she was laughing all the same. Somehow it didn’t seem to matter now. She waved at the bartender, getting him to come to their corner with a strained smile. “Tell me, Hans, are you going to split your winnings with us? Or keep them all to yourself?”

“How about drinks on the house for tonight?” he offered. Mika thought about it; she hadn’t really been drunk since that night Bucky found her on the stairs. She definitely still remembered the hangover, and had no desire to do that again.

“Hm, no. I’ll think of something and get back to you.” she replied lightly, taking another sip of the one drink she was going to have tonight and turning back to Elena. Hans sighed deeply, shaking his head before returning to his post. “So everyone was in on this?” 

“Oh, not Alexei. He was super salty about it for some reason. Hey! Maybe now he’ll leave you alone. I wouldn’t be hitting on you knowing Bucky was in your corner.” she said, laughing at her own joke. Speak of the devil, Bucky finally made his way out of the kitchen, spotting them and giving her a soft smile. He slipped through the crowd, putting a gentle hand on Mika’s lower back as she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Care for a drink?” he asked, and Mika shook her head no. She didn’t want to be tipsy tonight, she just wanted to take it easy and turn in at a reasonable hour. 

“I’ve got one.” she replied with a smile, leaning ever so slightly into his shoulder. She thought he would be one to avoid public displays of affection given how purposeful he was with his touches, but he seemed generally comfortable. He grinned, turning to her friend and giving her a nod.

“Elena.” he said in greeting, and for once his smile wasn’t tight or nervous. Now that she realized he didn’t care for her leaping on him as a way to say hello, he wasn’t quite as scared of her.

“Bucky.” she replied, her tone laced with some underlying suggestion. She perked an eyebrow at him, giving him a maniacal grin as he passed them to go get a drink from Hans. She turned back to Mika, the same expression on her face. “He’s completely in love with you.”

“Oh would you stop? We’ve been dating for like, five minutes.” Mika admonished, smacking her friend on the hand. Truth be told, she thought she was falling dangerously fast for Bucky, but she was not about to tell  _ anyone _ that. She was going to let him set the pace with everything, considering he was the one with the most baggage. She would just have to learn to be patient; after almost thirty years, now seemed like a good time to work on this skill. 

“But you’ve been pining over each other for months now.” Elena pointed out, and Mika couldn’t exactly fight back, considering she was right. She tried to hurriedly think of a comeback, finally settling on,

“Doesn’t matter. No more meddling.” It wasn’t a very good response, but it would have to do. The last thing she needed was for Elena to say something too bold and scare Bucky off. The thought alone was enough to make her heart break for a moment before she remembered that he was still here, and he was still with her. Sometimes she wondered if he regretted their decision, but then he would hold her hand, or put his arm around her, or kiss the side of her head, and she would remember that he had always been honest with her. At least, he was honest in the things he said, though he wasn’t always forthcoming with information. 

“Bet you two are married in a year.” she said, taking a sip of her drink and eyeing her. Mika rolled her eyes, shaking her head in frustration. Marriage had not been a topic of conversation, and rightly so. She didn’t need to go thinking about it (though she did sometimes, especially at night when she had trouble falling asleep).

“Elena.” she said, a warning in her tone. She knew her friend was joking, just trying to get a rise out of her, but she was so scared of messing this relationship up on her own that the thought of Elena starting something was enough to incite a mild panic in her heart.

“Bet you’re pregnant by next summer.” she added, laughing at her own joke again. Mika soared the eye roll this time, instead leveling her with the most withering look she could manage.

“Elena!” she said sharply. Kids? They definitely hadn’t talked about kids yet, and Mika wasn’t even sold one hundred percent on the concept. Elena had the audacity to look affronted, as if she were the one being wronged. 

“What? You’ve never cared when I made these jokes before.” she pointed out, and even though Mika knew she was right, she was still a little peeved. Elena looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “What’s changed?”

“I don’t know, it’s just...different now.” she said with a shrug. She leaned her head against her hand, glancing across the bar as he saw Bucky and Nicolae chatting with Hans. He was so good looking, and his smile made her feel like her heart could fly, even if it wasn’t directed at her. “I just really like him, is all. I just don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”

“Oh please.” Elena said, completely disregarding Mika’s moment of self consciousness. “I’m pretty sure you could kill someone, and Bucky would just help you hide the body.”

She honestly had no doubt that that was the truth, thought she would never admit that aloud. “Regardless, I’m trying to take things slow and make sure they work, cause if they don’t I’m pretty sure I’d be devastated.”

“What happened to ‘we’ve only been dating for five minutes,’ hm?” Elena stated, and Mika winced at having her own words turned back on her.

“Well played.” she replied, once again at a loss for words. Elena laughed haughtily, picking up her empty glass and giving Mika a kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m very happy for you, darling. And things are going to work out splendidly, you’ll see.” she said with the unwavering confidence of a best friend. Mika smiled at her, and she threw her a wink before turning to head where the others were congregating by Hans. She should get up, she thought. She should go over there with them instead of just staring from afar like a creeper. But she liked seeing Bucky smile and interact with her friends. He had come so far since she met him all those months ago, and every day he seemed more comfortable in his own skin, and happy to be here, and with her. He made eye contact with her then, barely twitching his eyebrow as he smiled at her before his attention was once again claimed by Nicolae. Mika’s heart stuttered at the small interaction; oh yea, she had it  _ bad _ .

Alexei dropped into the seat in front of her, thoroughly startling her. She blinked a few times to bring him into focus, taking in his lazy grin and his confident posture. Oh no. She did not like this at all. 

“Hey, Alexei, what’s up?” she asked innocently. From across the pub, she could feel Bucky’s eyes on her, but she put on the most easy smile she could muster. 

“I have a question for you.” he replied. Oh no. Oh no no no. She tried to think of any way to avoid this conversation the way she had for the past two years, but it seemed that her luck had run out. She searched for any excuse she could think of, but all of them flew from her mind as he rested his hand on hers. She felt chills go up her arm, and not in a good way.

“Alexei, I don’t think-” she tried to stop him, tried to let him down gently before he did something that might end up uncomfortable for the both of them, but he didn’t heed her. He was determined. 

“No, listen. We’ve been dancing around this for a long time.” he said, as if he were trying to be poetic. Mika thought he was just coming off as pretentious. She tried to pull her hand away slowly, but he curled his fingers around hers in an attempt to be tender. Funny, Bucky was the trained assassin, and yet somehow his touch was infinitely more gentle. 

“Have we?” she deadpanned. She wanted this conversation to be over. Actually, she didn’t want it to happen at all. 

“I think we would be good together. I really like you, and I know you like me too. And I think it’s time we give this a shot.” he said, undeterred by her body language and subtle attempts. He gestured between them with his free hand, and Mika noticed that he actually hadn’t asked anything, he had just told her what he thought they should do. That was enough to snap her patience, and she pulled her hand roughly from his. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bucky perking up, ready to intervene if needed. But she was confident now that she could fight her own battles.

“I don’t agree with you.” she said, short and to the point. Alexei looked offended and confused, and instead of feeling sorry for him, she just felt annoyed. She had been dropping hints the whole time that she did not have romantic feelings for him; it was time for her to be blatant. 

“What? Why not?” he exclaimed, affronted. Mika stared at him for a moment, wondering if he could actually be this delusional. Or perhaps he was just optimistic. She tried to be positive, though that was quickly waning as well. 

“Well, I don’t like you in that way.” she said, saying it in no uncertain terms so that they would not have to have this discussion again. “And also, I happen to be with someone. Someone I care for very deeply.”

“What the fuck? Who?” he demanded, and before she could stop herself her gaze slid over to Bucky. He was still staring at them, his gaze cold and calculating from under the bill of his baseball cap. Nicolae was still chattering about something, but all his attention was on them. Alexei followed her eyes, scoffing as he looked back to her. “Bucky? Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously.” she said, anger blooming in her chest at the vague implication. Bucky was the best man she knew, and she would defend him to her grave.

“But he’s so weird. And creepy. Seriously, Mika, what the fuck?” Alexei said, and she could almost see a green tint to his eyes. Jealousy was always her least favorite quality in a partner. 

“No, he’s not. I don’t have to justify anything to you. But for the record, I’m very happy with him.” she said, feeling defensive. She didn’t owe him an explanation, but she still felt the need to give one, even if it was very brief. 

“There’s something seriously wrong with him.” he said darkly, making Mika bristle. He didn’t know what Bucky had been through, the things he’d endured. Alexei was a spoiled brat who wasn’t used to hearing the word  _ no _ , and Mika was tired of it.

“Stop talking about him like that.” she said calmly, trying to maintain her composure even though he was getting all worked up. He rolled his eyes, acting like she was the one who was in the wrong here.

“Mika, come on, you can do so much better!” he said, shamelessly gesturing to himself. Mika shook her head, sliding off the stool and grabbing her purse.

“Even if I were single, I would still tell you no.” she finally said, pushing past him before he could respond. She thought after Dominic she was done with men trying to control her, but it seemed Alexei had to get one last shot in. She moved next to Bucky, tucking herself under his arm and seamlessly joining into his conversation with Nicolae. She heard the front door close as Alexei left the pub, and she finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked lowly, his lips right next to her ear. His tone suggested that he would be willing to start a fight, if she wanted. But she didn’t want that. She just wanted to be with him.

“Just fine. I’ll tell you about it later.” she said, smiling brightly at him. Just the little bit of affection and concern were enough to calm her from the earlier interaction, though she was still annoyed when she thought about it. He nodded, pulling her just a little bit closer. 

“Do you still want to stay? Or head home?” he asked softly, just as Elena sprung into existence next to them. 

“Jonas and Maria are at a club downtown, said that drinks are half price and that there’s some DJ performing. You all in?” she asked, gesturing at the lot of them. Mika nearly sighed in relief; this would be the perfect excuse to part ways. 

“Absolutely!” Nicolae said, slapping her hand in a high five. The two of them looked expectantly at Mika, and Bucky was silent as he waited for her response. She noticed he had grown very still, and knew he absolutely did not want to go. And frankly, neither did she. 

“No, I think we’ll just head back. Those things always give me a headache.” she said. It was a lame excuse, she knew, but she didn’t care. Besides, it was true, and a night on the couch with Bucky sounded much more fun than a night in a cramped club, sweating to music that felt like it was hammering her skull. Elena stuck her tongue out at her before laughing. 

“Alright, old lady. I’ll see you soon.” she said, kissing both her cheeks and one of Bucky’s. Nicolae grinned at them before following Elena out of the pub. Mika felt bad for not hanging out with her friend longer, especially given that she hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks, but they both knew that was just how life went sometimes. She turned to Bucky to find a grin on his face. 

“Home then?” he asked, and even if he’d called their building that a hundred times, and even if they didn’t actually live together, she still liked the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. She couldn’t stop her smile, her hand reaching down to squeeze his. 

“Home it is.” she said, liking the way he was looking at her. He nodded, removing his hand from her grasp only to place it on her low back. 

“Go grab your coat then. Just gotta lock up the kitchen and I’ll be right out.” he said‍, letting his touch linger for a second before he pulled away from her. She watched him for a second as he snaked through the pub before going to the coat rack and pulling on her heavy coat and gloves. She waited until she saw him exit the kitchen door before stepping outside into the cold winter night. A few breaths later, Bucky exited, holding his hand out to her and letting her intertwine their fingers before he tucked their hands into his jacket pocket. She told him all about the conversation between her and Alexei as they walked back home, and he dutifully listened to her dramatic explanation, complete with her extra commentary. 

“Ugh. He’s just so annoying.” she finished with a frustrated groan, and he chuckled lowly at her theatrics. “Don’t laugh! I was defending my honor! And yours!”

“And I appreciate that. Though he was right, there are many things wrong with me.” he pointed out with an impish smirk. Mika jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, not appreciating the self deprecating humor. 

“False. You’re amazing.” she said, leaving no room for argument. She paused as they reached the door to the apartment building, tugging him close so she could press a cold kiss to his lips. His whole body softened at the contact, and he barely hesitated before leaning into it. When he pulled back, she was smiling. 

“As long as you think so.” he said, and he meant it. Sure, it was nice to have friends again. But the only one who really mattered was Mika. She pulled him towards the door, digging her keys from her pocket so she could scan in and they could begin the long trek, hand in hand, to the top floor. 

“Want to come in? Watch a movie?” she asked, unlocking her door and pausing in the opening. Of course, his training still whispered in the back of his mind, telling him not to. But he didn’t hear it. Instead he just heard the music playing from the speaker in her kitchen as her phone automatically connected. He just saw the welcoming smile on her face and the warm glow of her apartment. 

“Let me shower first, then I’ll join you.” he replied, nodding towards his own door. He needed to wash all the scents of work off of him, so that maybe he could hold her close as they watched, if she let him. 

“Sounds perfect. Door will be open.” she replied, peeling off her coat as she fully stepped into her apartment and went to put the kettle on the stove. It was nice to be back in the warmth and comfort of home, and she gladly changed out of her jeans and blouse and into cozier clothes. As she pulled on her thick winter socks and pulled her hair into a messy pile on top of her head, she realized she wasn’t exactly dressing to impress. But besides their date nights, Mika never felt she had to. Sure, she wanted Bucky to think she was pretty, but he had this insane ability to make her feel beautiful even when she wasn’t all dolled up. She paused, wondering if she needed to change into something a little nicer, something a little more flattering, but she was interrupted by her front door opening. 

“You know, you should keep that locked.” Bucky said, shutting the door behind him. Even though she’d told him the door would be open, he didn’t like the idea of her not being safe. She grinned, going to pull the steaming kettle from the stovetop and filling the waiting mugs. 

“Well how else are you supposed to get in? Unless you wanna pick the lock every time.” she said, mixing sugar into her mug before taking them to the coffee table. She was then struck by an idea, holding up her finger to signal him to wait while she went and dug through the drawer of her bedside table. There, at the back, was the envelope from when she first moved in, and the spare key still stuck inside it. She held it in her hand for a second, wondering if this was moving too fast, but decided that if it was too bold then she could trust Bucky to be honest with her. She padded back to the living room to find him already on the couch, cup of tea in hand and an intense look of concentration on his face as he scrolled through their watch list, analyzing the synopsis of each choice. She held the key out to him. “There, now you don’t have to worry.”

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, and she answered by holding the key closer to him until he carefully plucked it from her fingers. She smiled then, settling next to him on the couch and leaning against his shoulder.

“Completely sure.” she said, tucking her legs underneath her and giving him a serious look. There was no one she trusted more than him, and even if they’d only been together a couple of weeks, she still felt confident in this. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was surprised she hadn’t given him a key earlier. “Besides, now if you want to sneak in first thing in the morning to bring me breakfast in bed, you have the means.”

“Ah, there it is.” he said, rolling his eyes and grabbing her knee, his fingertips finding a ticklish spot. She wriggled under his grasp, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers to stave off any further attacks. He was grinning at her then, and she leaned forward for a brief kiss before going back to the task at hand and choosing a movie for them to watch. His hand stayed on her leg, but now it was just resting in a comforting manner, and she could feel the warmth of his skin even through her leggings. With her tea in her hands and her cheek on his shoulder, she found herself very comfortable indeed. 

Bucky also felt very comfortable, which surprised him. He was always waiting for the second shoe to drop, waiting for the moment when either everything would fall apart or he would wake up from this most fantastic dream. But he’d decided that he needed to try and enjoy the present, and not fret about the future or get held up by his past. It was a slow process that he was still practicing, going against literally decades worth of training. He tried to focus on the positives: he was happy with Mika, and she seemed to be happy with him. Their movie nights had started off so formal, with respectable distance between them and near silence as they watched. Now, she was curled up against him, and they were sharing both gentle, affectionate touches as well as snarky jokes about the film. He never thought he’d reach this place again, and as he looked at the woman next to him he couldn’t help but feel grateful for whatever piece of the universe decided that they could have this.

He placed a kiss to the top of her head, taking in her beautiful smile that she gave before settling back against him. She’d never know how lucky he felt.


	33. Temptations

Things were turning out better than Bucky could have ever anticipated. 

He wanted to laugh at his past self, and how he thought it was so difficult to be friends with Mika. He could still vaguely remember how nervous he was, how he was constantly on edge and expecting the worst. That part of his life felt like it was eons ago. Now, over a month later, he still had a bit of the nerves, but it was because he felt so goddamn strongly for her. Being with her was easy, scarily easy, and while he still concerned himself with his perimeter and still woke from nightmares more often than not, he now had someone to look out for, and someone who was looking out for him. 

Today, he found himself lounging on her couch, idly working on the puzzle book she bought him last week (“it’s called  _ sudoku _ , it’s supposed to help with your memory”) while she worked in the kitchen. She had her music going, and was humming along to it as she pulled out all her different ingredients and organized them carefully on the kitchen island. She paused, resting her hands on the countertop. 

“Have you given any thought to your birthday?” she asked, completely distracted from her task by the question. He furrowed his brows, looking up from the puzzle book to meet her curious eyes. He  _ hadn’t _ given any thought to his birthday, actually. It wasn’t a priority to him. 

“I haven’t.” he said lightly, hoping that the conversation would end there. He knew better, of course, but it couldn’t hurt to hope. 

“But it’s coming up in a few weeks.” Mika pointed out, leaning her elbows onto the island and fixing him with a serious look. Birthdays were serious business to her, and she wanted to make sure that they actually celebrated his this year. She knew he would never let her spoil him rotten the way she wanted to, but she still wanted to try as much as she could. “We could do whatever you want. We could go out, or have people come here…” she left the sentence hanging, trying to give him ideas and options. He had to keep himself from grimacing; neither one of those options were his ideal.

“Don’t need anything special.” he said with a shrug. If he had his choice, he knew what he wanted. But for some reason, he was hesitant to ask. Mika perked an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to elaborate, and with a sigh he finally admitted, “Just a quiet night with you is all I want.”

“You need something a little more special than that.” she said, standing back up and getting her kitchen scale from the drawer. He shook his head. He spent a part of every day with people, whether it was Hans or the pub’s patrons or Mika’s friends. He didn’t need any extra time with them.

“Nothing is more special than that.” he said seriously, grinning as a blush painted her cheeks. He meant every word he said to her, and it filled him with great satisfaction to see the effect they had on her. It was moments like these that made him think perhaps he had at least some impact on her in the same way she did on him. “What are you making?” he asked, trying to change the topic of conversation. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, seeing exactly what he was trying to do and deciding to go along with it.

“Just some bread for the week.” she said, finally pulling out a bowl and her measuring cups and slipping her apron over her head. He knew they would revisit this conversation, but he could at least avoid it for another day.

“What kind?” he continued, keeping her focused on her task. She paused the shuffling of her ingredients, looking to him once again.

“Depends, what kind is your favorite?” she countered, her fingers tapping on the top of the flour container. She had one corner of her lips lifted in a smile as he considered his answer. 

“Probably the herb one.” he said, thinking all the way back to the time she’d invited him over for wine and cheese almost a year ago. She rose her eyebrows at that response; she hadn’t expected that answer.

“Unfortunately I haven’t got the herbs, can you settle for multigrain?” she asked, giving him an apologetic look. He almost wanted to laugh; nothing about her was “settling.” He would take whatever she was willing to give him. But she didn’t need to know that. He let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as he turned back to his puzzle.

“I suppose I’ll have to.” he said, looking at her from under the bill of his baseball cap and not bothering to hide the grin on his face. She stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh.

“Damn right you will.” she said, finally turning her attention away from him and to the task at hand. He meant to go back to his puzzle, he really did, but he found himself enraptured by the sight of her. She measured out each element of the bread by memory, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t even seem to be trying, mixing everything together with her fingers and humming along to the song playing through the speakers. The song changed as she dropped the dough onto the countertop, her smile wide as she began kneading it. It was her new favorite song, so she still got some of the words wrong, but her performance was passionate nonetheless. He smiled at the dance she was doing, flipping her ponytail and shaking her shoulders. She was kneading the dough in time with the beat of the song, thoroughly enjoying being in her own little world filled with music and baking. 

She looked up and caught him staring, and while before he might have turned away, today he held her gaze. She pointed at him as the chorus hit again, leaving her dough to rest on the counter as she sashayed around it. He lifted one eyebrow as she danced over to him, dropping onto his lap and singing the love song to him with grand gestures. He laughed, and this time it was his turn to feel the heat rising in the back of his neck at her affection. She stood up, taking his pencil and book from his hands and laying them on the couch before trying to pull him into a standing position to dance with her. He shook his head, letting his hands slip from her grasp. But she wouldn’t take no for an answer, grabbing him again and giving him the most seductive look she could muster. He stood this time, allowing her to pull him into her silly dance. He didn’t know how to dance to this song, but was content to hold her hand as she spun and moved around him. She tried to get him to shake his hips, putting her hands on his waist and trying to move him, but that  _ definitely _ wasn’t happening. He laughed, taking her hands in his and pulling her to his chest, holding her close and leading her in an odd swing dance that didn’t quite match the music. She leaned her cheek against his, and their steps became slower and slower until they were just swaying to the music. She moved away just a fraction, just enough to take off his baseball cap and look at him with a smile. The dancing stopped, as she rested her forehead against his for just a breath before closing the space between them with a kiss. 

He was getting more used to kissing her. He could now kiss her longer, and deeper, and God what a thrill it was. He remembered kissing women before, remembered enjoying it, but there was no way that it was as wonderful then as it was now. He felt a warmth and a pleasure bubble up behind his sternum that he never thought was possible, his heart damn near overflowing with affection for her. His arm circled around her waist, pulling her flush against him as her arms circled his neck. The tie in her apron fell away as his hand brushed it; he hadn’t intended to loosen it, but it had let go of its own accord. She pulled it off, letting it drop onto the floor as she returned her lips to his. 

Something shifted between them then, and Bucky didn’t know if Mika felt it, but he certainly did. This was usually the moment when he pulled away with apologies, but he felt a confidence he hadn’t encountered before. He gently walked her backwards until she bumped into the kitchen island, his hands steadily grasping her hips and lifting her to sit on the edge of it. She immediately hooked her heels around his legs, and he took the hint to stand close to her, his hips between her knees. Their kisses were a little more feverish now, and he could feel her pulse rising along with his own. He should stop, it would be better to stop, but her fingers were in his hair and his hands were on her legs and dammit he didn’t  _ want _ to stop. 

A memory came to him then, and trailed his lips down to her neck, pausing with just his breath touching her. “Can I kiss you here?” he asked, and she nodded. That was all the encouragement he needed, pressing his lips to her and taking in the taste of her skin there. She tilted her head, encouraging him with a little noise and a squeeze of her thighs around his hips. He rested his metal hand on the edge of the island, his right hand skating up her leg and waist, going around to her back to pull her close again. Her shirt rose as he did so, and she pulled it off and discarded it...somewhere. It didn’t matter.  _ God _ she was stunning. She shifted against him and made another noise as he continued his ministrations, the combination giving him a visceral response that made him feel like he might burst.

_ Crack! _

Bucky jumped back so fast that Mika tumbled from her perch on the island, barely getting her legs underneath her in time to stay upright. His eyes scanned her quickly for any sign of injury and found none; in fact, she was looking at him with concern. The island, where his metal hand had been grasping, had a crack in the laminate from the grip. His heart plummeted into his shoes, and he quickly retrieved his baseball cap from the floor and turned to the door.

“No, Bucky - wait.” Mika was trying to catch her breath and organize her thoughts, her body still a little confused as to what was going on. She grabbed her shirt and put it back on, not noticing in her haste that it was still inside out. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He shouldn’t be here; he was a danger to her, and he was an idiot to ever think that he wouldn’t be.

“I should go.” he said. He needed to retreat, reevaluate. He knew it was better for her if he left completely, but he also knew that he was too weak and selfish now for that. He wanted to stay with her, but if was to do that, he needed to figure out a way to keep her safe.

“Bucky, talk to me.” she said, touching his back, trying to get him to turn around and stay with her. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steel his resolve, trying to talk himself out of looking at her again. If he looked at her, it would be game over. Her mouth was dry, her heart hammering as she tried to make sense of what was going on. She was no longer concerned with her sexual frustration, she was more concerned that she had royally screwed up. “Look, if there’s something...something that I’m doing wrong, or something that you need me to do, you can tell me. I’m a big girl, you won’t hurt my feelings.” 

“What? No, no it isn’t you.” he said, turning around before he could stop himself. She never made him feel like he couldn’t be honest with her. He eyed the crack in the laminate again, and forced himself to instead look at her. “I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.” she replied quickly, her hands going to his arms. He stiffened under her touch, but relaxed as she rubbed lightly. “Please stay.”

Her voice was so soft that he could feel his resolve crumbling. But he needed to be steadfast. She thought him good enough, and he needed to become that. He meant to tell her goodbye for the day, but instead he found himself asking, “How can you want me? How are you not afraid of me?” It was the most blatant he’d ever been with her, and he felt more vulnerable than even the time he confessed about his past. 

“I’m not afraid of you because I trust you.” she said, as if it were obvious. She had absolutely no trepidations being with him; she just knew that he had a lot of demons he was overcoming, and wanted to make sure she helped him, rather than hindered him. He was her rock, and she wanted to be his as well. “As for how I can want you, you realize you are incredibly sexy, right?”

“What?” he asked again, this time more shocked. He knew in his previous life he’d been considered handsome, but he didn’t know how much of that translated to today. He’d been described as many things over the past few years -  _ unstoppable, ruthless, calculating _ \- but never in his life would he see himself as  _ sexy _ . She laughed then, more at the dumbfounded look on his face than anything.

“Yes. I find you incredibly attractive, both outside and in.” she said. Did he really not realize the effect he had on her? “I was completely prepared for you to take me in a most manly fashion right there on that kitchen island.”

“I-I’m sorry. I can’t...I’m not ready for that.” he stuttered, his heart twisting at the idea. He so wished he was ready, but the crack in the kitchen was evidence that he was not. Mika grimaced, wondering if her comment had offended him instead of bolstering his confidence.

“And that’s okay.” she said in a mollifying manner, her hands going to hold his. She wouldn’t deny that she desperately wanted him to hold her until the morning light, but she wasn’t about to pressure him. Didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be honest with him, though. “I’ve been on the side that wasn’t ready, and I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. But just know, that when you reach that point, that I’m there waiting for you.” she said, giving him a pointed look. 

His heart swelled at her understanding. He knew it must be frustrating for her, especially given how much she enjoyed physical touch and affection, but the fact that she was willing to put that aside for his comfort? It made it hard for him to breathe for a second. For seventy years he was given neither choices nor sympathy, and here she was offering both. He rested his head against her forehead again, letting out a long sigh.

“Thank you.” he whispered, not trusting his voice to go any louder than that. She put her hands on his cheeks, gently rubbing the scruff with her thumbs.

“I care a lot about you, you know that, right?” she asked, giving him a half smile and stopping herself from admitting anything that would make him  _ really _ uncomfortable. He nodded, still unable to voice his appreciation. But he could give her a bit of physical response, his arms sliding around her middle until he was hugging her to his chest. She nuzzled into his neck, holding him just as tightly and hoping to convey what she was feeling without saying it. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” he murmured, finally pulling away. She nodded, giving him the briefest kiss before letting him go. 

“Have a good day at work, okay?” she said with a smile, and he grinned back at her before nodding and letting himself out of her apartment. She stood there for a moment in the silence, trying to calm her racing heart. She eyed the clock and the bread dough on the countertop; it still needed another half hour of proving. Just enough time for her to take a nice, cold shower. 

Turns out, a cold shower was  _ not _ what she needed. Well, perhaps the shower was fine, but going out in the February air with wet hair was definitely a mistake. As the days passed she thought she could fight off the cold that was threatening to settle in, taking in as much tea and medicine as she could stomach, but she still woke up Friday morning feeling like her head was stuffed with cotton balls and her chest was filled with cement. She opened her eyes just enough to email her boss and call in sick before promptly passing out again, curled up in her heavy blankets and unable to breathe through her nose.

She was awoken by a knocking at her door, though it sounded very far away. She reached a clumsy hand out and picked up her phone to find it was past noon, and she had two unread messages from Bucky. She heard the key in the latch, and she was immediately so glad that she had given it to him. The idea of getting out of bed right now seemed nearly impossible. He called her name as he stepped through the door, and she took as deep a breath as she could to try and call out to him. She wasn’t actually able to voice anything, instead being reduced to a coughing mess. He strode across the apartment, a worried expression on his face as he knelt by her bedside.

“Hi.” she said lamely, her voice thick and gravelly. He carefully brushed back her hair, laying his palm against her forehead. The crease in his brow became deeper as he took note of her temperature; he himself ran at a higher body heat than normal, but she felt warm even to him.

“You’ve got a fever.” he said quietly, as if he knew her head was pounding from simply being awake. She made a noise of disagreement - if she had a fever, then why was she freezing? She pulled the covers closer around her, trying to get the warmth to stay in.

“I’m cold.” she said, barely able to get the words out through her fatigue. God she was tired. “I’m sorry, I can’t do lunch.”

“You need to go to the doctor. You could have influenza.” he said, ignoring her unnecessary apology. He stroked her hair in a comforting manner, trying not to panic. It took Mika a moment to remember why he would be so concerned about the flu - last he heard, it could be a death sentence. She wanted to explain that she was fine, that she just needed to sleep it off and maybe take some Motrin and DayQuil, but that sounded like way more words than her lungs were willing to supply at that moment.

“Nah, it’s just a cold. I just gotta sleep it off.” she mumbled. His hand was warm, and it felt nice against her cold skin. Well, cold to her. She would still debate how serious this so-called fever was, but that was for another time.

“At least drink some tea. And take some medicine. Do you have either of those?” he asked, choosing not to comment on the fact that she was shivering. He decided if she didn’t perk up after this, he was going to make the executive motion and just take her to the doctor. What was she going to do, fight back? 

“Bathroom.” she said, giving a weak nod to his question. He stood up, going where she directed and finding the box of cold medicine open on her counter. It was already mostly empty; he eyed the front of the box, trying to memorize the name of it so he could purchase more for her later. He broke off one of the packets, tucking it into his pocket before going to the kitchen and putting the kettle on before seeing what she had in way of tea. The peppermint box was empty, and the chai would not be any good to her right now. Luckily, in the back, he found a box of ginger tea that she likely bought the last time she was ill. That would do nicely. She didn’t have any lemon to go in it, but he would just have to remedy that later. She did have honey, and he carefully mixed that in, adding a bit more than he usually would to help soothe her throat. 

When he returned to her bedroom, she’d managed to prop herself up on her pillows and turn on her television, her favorite baking show playing on the screen. She still looked at him through half-lidded eyes, sniffling heavily and giving him a smile. He helped her adjust so she could hold the hot tea, warming her fingers and steaming her face. He handed her the medicine, and she choked it down with the tea. The plan was to get her set up to rest and then leave, but she grabbed his hand before he could move away.

“You’re a saint. Thank you.” she said, pulling him back to her. “Will you get sick if I kiss you?”

He laughed, shaking his head and allowing her to tug him close for a chaste kiss. She gave him a tired smile, settling further into her pillows and holding her warm tea against her chest, the steam rising to her face. He smoothed her hair away from her face, still concerned about her but feeling slightly better now that there was a little color in her skin. “I have to go to work, but if you’re not a little more lively when I get back, we’re going to the doctor, okay?” 

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” she said, still giving him the biggest grin she could muster. Her whole body felt tired, and she really couldn’t wait until she was done drinking her tea so that she could go back to sleep. He laid his lips against her hot forehead, letting them linger a moment before letting himself out of her apartment. Truth be told, he didn’t have to be at work for another hour, but he had a couple errands to run before he went in to the pub. His first stop was the drug store. There were an infinite amount of options now compared to when he was last ill (which was, by his estimation, 1938), and he must have looked very confused, because the young woman behind the pharmacy counter came out to the aisle, getting his attention with a greeting.

“Can I help you find something?” she asked politely, her voice sharp. Perhaps it was the white lab coat, but he thought she looked very much like she knew what she was talking about. He gave her a cordial grin, gesturing vaguely at the piles of medication in front of him.

“My girl’s sick. She says it’s just a cold, but I’m concerned about influenza.” he explained quietly, his heart constricting at the casual reference to Mika. Of course, the woman barely seemed to notice. This sort of thing was commonplace to her, but to Bucky it was a huge deal. Oh well. He was grateful for the woman’s help, but he was hoping this interaction would be short, and that he wouldn’t have to divulge any more information than he absolutely had to. The pharmacist nodded.

“Fever?” she asked, again sounding clinical instead of interrogative. He nodded again. 

“No higher than thirty-eight degrees centigrade.” he replied, roughly estimating her temperature in relation to his own. He knew she was feverish, but not to the point that would cause encephalitis or protein denaturation. He didn’t need to panic - yet. The pharmacist picked up two boxes, handing them to him.

“This one is for her symptoms and her fever, and this one is a different medication that will help with the congestion. If the fever persists for more than forty-eight hours, she should see a physician.” she explained, pointing to the boxes in turn. The bigger one boasted both a daytime and nighttime formula, and he assumed the nighttime one had a sleep aid. Mika certainly didn’t need help there, she’d been sleeping more and more over the past few days as the illness set in.

“Thank you for your help.” he said in a courteous manner, and the woman smiled and said he could ask her any other questions if they came up before returning to her station behind the counter. Bucky went across the store, paying for the cold medicine before going to his next stop, the grocery store. This trip was much quicker, considering he knew exactly what he needed and exactly where those items were located. With his purchases bagged up, he finally made his way to work. 

“Bringing your own ingredients now?” Hans remarked as Bucky ducked into the pub. He was wiping down glasses behind the bar, and carefully organizing them underneath. Bucky hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how best to present his request.

“I actually have a bit of a favor to ask.” he said quietly, making Hans’ hands go still for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and starting up again. 

“You need to make something on the side?” he asked, and perhaps if this was the first time Bucky had spoken with Hans, he might have been alarmed by the accuracy of his question. While his intuition was certainly startling, Bucky had just come to accept it at face value. If Hans could read minds, he was using his powers for good, not evil. 

“Mika’s sick. Was hoping to make her some soup.” he explained, holding up the bag with the food. Hans made an expression that Bucky didn’t quite understand before snapping himself out of it, as if remembering that he was still waiting for an answer.

“That’s so sweet.” he whispered, so quiet that Bucky wasn’t quite sure he was meant to hear it. Hans cleared his throat, his voice returning to a normal volume. “Uh, yea, that’s totally fine. As long as everything else still gets done.”

“Of course. Thank you.” he said, going into the kitchen and starting his shift. The chicken noodle soup wasn’t his priority, of course; he still had a job to do tonight. But he had just enough down time to chop up some extra vegetables and set them simmering with chicken breasts and spicy seasonings. He waited to the end of his shift to add the noodles, not wanting them to be mush when he got back to the apartment. He let those cook as he cleaned up the kitchen, packing the soup into a plastic container and cleaning the last pot. It was still hot as he said goodnight to Hans and made his way back home. 

Mika was actually awake when he returned to her apartment, though she didn’t look like she’d moved from her bed in the hours since he left. She was completely curled up underneath her covers, her empty teacup on the nightstand and her television playing some period drama. She smiled as he appeared in her doorway, her voice still low and hoarse as she said, “Hey there, handsome.” 

“I brought you something.” he replied, pretending that his heart didn’t jump at the easy compliment. She raised her eyebrows, making a curious noise.

“It is the sweet release of death?” she asked, her laughter at her own joke dissolving into aggressive coughing. Bucky shook his head; had humor not changed much since the World War II days, or had he just managed to be alive and awake when it was popular to be fatalistic?

“Not unless you don’t like spicy food.” he said, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t  _ sure _ if she liked spicy food or not. He might be eating soup for the next few days. She pushed herself into a seated position, looking rather intrigued.  
  
“I think I can handle some spicy food.” she said, trying to sniffle and failing miserably due to how stuffed her sinuses were. Hopefully he could help with that soon. He excused himself, warming up two bowls of the soup and spoons. That was just going to have to be good enough. He handed her the medicine to take before handing her the bowl of soup, and was content to stand next to her bed while they ate. Mika, however, was not content with that, and gave him a serious look before patting the space on the bed next to her. He hesitated for a moment before slipping off his shoes and carefully sitting next to her. She snuggled up to him, holding her soup as if it were her last source of warmth. He took a bite to find it spicier than he’d intended, though still pleasant. He watched as she ate, her face puzzled.

“Good?” he asked, concerned that she didn’t like it. It wouldn’t hurt his feelings, of course, he just didn’t want her to feel like she had to eat it. She swallowed her bite and smiled sheepishly.

“Honestly, I can’t taste. I can just feel the heat from the spices.” she admitted, making him laugh lowly. He should have known she would be too congested for any flavors to make their way through. He could feel his own body temperature rising, and could see her perking up a bit as she ate. 

“Just wait.” he said cryptically, continuing to eat. Sure enough, a few minutes later she let out an  _ oh _ as her sinuses cleared slightly, allowing her to breathe easier. It also might have been the medicine kicking in, but Bucky would always say it was his soup. A few minutes after that her chills were gone, and she was pushing off her covers and pulling up the sleeves of her flannel, letting loose one or two of the top buttons to try and cool off. 

“Wow. Okay yes, now I feel it.” she said, letting out a breath and fanning herself. Her voice sounded better, stronger. He laughed at her theatrics, and despite the marked raise in her temperature, she continued eating the soup until the bowl was empty, having it join the empty mug on the nightstand. “Oh my God, Bucky, that was delicious but I’m  _ sweating _ .” 

“What can I say, I like to make you sweat.” he replied, thinking about their times at the gym but realizing a second too late that his statement could be taken as a slight innuendo. She gave him an unamused look, smacking him on the leg.

“No teasing. I really feel like I just got done working out.” she said, wiping a legitimate bead of sweat from her forehead. She held her hand against her chest and pushed the edges of her shirt a little wider, her breaths coming in short gasps due to the illness and the heat from their meal. His gaze traveled over the curve of her neck and the sharp line of her collarbone, following a bead of sweat as slowly moved down her soft skin. He dropped his eyes as it dropped below her shirt, hoping he didn’t get caught ogling her. She heaved a sigh, definitely not wheezing as much as she was earlier. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“I’ll make us some tea.” he replied, needing something to do with his hands to prevent him from thinking of her in the shower. She nodded, pulling herself from her bed and unbuttoning her shirt further as she ambled to the bathroom. He let out a long breath, trying to settle his racing heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation the other day, with Mika’s bold and blatant exclamation. These feelings were stronger every day, and he needed to get himself under control, because he really,  _ really _ wanted to express them. 

His vitals were back at baseline by the time she was finished with her shower and their tea was ready. Now he had lemon to add to the ginger tea and honey, sure to help with whatever infection she was fighting. She was dressed in a new set of pajamas and had her wet hair twisted into a bun, and looked much more alive than earlier today. She collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, adjusting her position as he sat next to her again.

“Feeling better?” he asked, handing her the tea. She hummed gratefully, taking it and leaning her head against his shoulder. She curled into his side, his hand resting on her thigh.

“Much. Do I still have to go to the doctor?” she asked, and while she still didn’t sound as strong as she normally did, she certainly sounded healthier. He remembered what the pharmacist recommended with her fever, pressing his lips against his forehead to check it since his only hand that could feel temperature was currently sandwiched between her knees. She was still slightly warm, but the fever had mostly broken.

“No, I think you’ll live.” he replied, making her chuckle. She still ended up coughing, but it wasn’t near as rough as earlier. She drank half of her tea in one go before encouraging him to recline a bit further, really settling into the bed with her. It had been a long time since he’d shared a bed with a woman, but he didn’t feel overwhelmed with the same feelings he had earlier. Instead he just felt calm, comfortable. It was intimate in a different way, a way he could handle. Mika finished her tea, and he took the mug from her and put it beside the bed so they could continue watching the show. He knew he should probably go home, but he found he didn’t want to. And it seemed Mika didn’t want him to either.

“You can stay here tonight, if you want.” she murmured, her voice quiet and tired. The cold medicine was really working now. “No funny business, I promise.”

“Is it that you want me to stay, or that you don’t want to move off of me?” he asked. Her head was on his chest now, his arm around her shoulders in a protective manner. He was very still as he waited for her answer, though he was already losing the battle with himself to leave.

“Both.” she said lightly, making him laugh. He should have known better. 

“I’ll at least stay until you fall asleep.” he replied. The only reason he didn’t say yes was because he was terrified of having a nightmare and hurting her. He didn’t know what he acted out in his sleep, only that he’d woken up multiple times with torn sheets. He didn’t want to hurt her...but he didn’t want to leave her either.

“That’s fair.” she agreed, secretly hoping that he would stay. Sure, there were other bed-related activities that she wanted to participate in with him, but right now she just wanted to fall asleep in his arms, and wake up next to him. His warmth surrounded her as the medicine made her drowsy, his steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep. She felt safe, safer than perhaps she’d felt in her entire life.

And the next morning, she was happy when the first thing she saw was Bucky’s smile.


	34. Birthday Shenanigans, Part II

_ The fog surrounded him, blinding him as he tried to make sense of who and where he was. His skin was hot, but inside he felt frozen, his muscles barely able to respond as two people dragged him across a concrete floor. The cold leather of the chair was almost sharp as he was thrown into it, contrasting with the heat of his skin and sending a jolt straight up his spine and through his skull. He wanted to move, wanted to run, even though he didn’t know where he was going to run to. His arm hurt, God his arm hurt, it felt like it was slowly burning from the inside out, and the electrical pain made him feel like his shoulder and neck were on fire.  _

_ As his vision cleared, he started to recognize the men in lab coats, and the machines that they operated. The panic rose in him, choking him as he finally pulled himself to his feet and shook off the men plugging things into him. It didn’t matter where he went, as long as he was away from here. The metal of his left arm felt like it was tearing the bones of his shoulder apart when he used it, but he didn’t care. Escape, that’s what mattered. He needed to get out, needed to get to...Steve? Where was Steve? Didn’t Steve save him at one point? Why was he back here now? _

_ His thoughts and memories were jumbled, broken. Parts of his body were too, but he could feel them setting and healing. They were not the priority. His took one step to run, but was paralyzed by the voltage coming from the cattle prod someone stuck in his back. He fell to his knee, catching himself with the metal arm. Pain erupted through him as they stuck him again and again, until he could no longer stand. _

_ They heaved him back into the chair, and this time when he tried to fight, his muscles didn’t listen. His fingers merely twitched as he tried to lift his arm, and his legs weren’t moving at all. They’d damaged his spinal cord, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed that the injury had caused him to soil himself. That was the least of his worries now. His memories were piecing themselves back together, and he knew what would be next.  _

_ “Help!” he yelled, as loud as his aching lungs would let him. The cattle prod was jammed into his ribs, sending his heart into arrest for a moment before it forced itself back in sinus rhythm. Part of him knew no one would hear him, but he had to try, right? It wasn’t in his nature to give up. He’d never given up a day in his life, and he couldn’t start now. He screamed again, though he couldn’t form a word this time. The electricity hit him again, but he was becoming desensitized to all the pain. He barely noticed the prick in his arm as someone pushed in a needle, but he did feel his lower lip start to tremble. He was scared, God he was so scared, because he knew that after the needle came the Machine.  _

_ He tried to scream again, but it only came out as a gasp. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. He had to focus all his energy on getting out. He tried to lift his head, but as soon as he moved it, pain radiated through his neck. The Machine was pushed onto his head, and he was not given a moment to prepare before it turned on. He found his voice again then, his screech of pain echoing through the lab. His whole body felt like it was tearing apart into little pieces; he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t move. He could only scream. _

_ Time meant nothing now. The Machine ran again and again, until there wasn’t even relief when it was off. Warmth flooded him as they activated the IV, making him feel like his head was in the clouds. He tried to move again, but his muscles felt like they were full of cement. Beside him, a man in a black coat was reading in Russian, his words slow and deliberate. He recognized them. Since when did he recognize Russian? _

“Bucky.”

_ Yes, Bucky. His name was Bucky. He’d forgotten that, that’s what Steve called him. Was Steve coming? He needed to fight back. He needed to help Steve. But the man was still reading the Russian, and the needle was still putting the drug in his system. He was tired. _

“Bucky, wake up.”

_ He’d been fighting for a long time - years, even. Steve wasn’t coming. No one was coming to save him. He was alone.  _

“Bucky.”

_ The man was nearing the end of the list. He wanted to fight the pull in his mind, but he couldn’t anymore. He’d tried his best, for as long as he could. But he wasn’t Bucky anymore. As his consciousness slipped, he was- _

Awake. Awake with sweat pouring from every place and his heart hammering in his chest. He awoke to a ceiling that wasn’t his, and found that he wasn’t alone. Mika was sitting at the foot of the bed, as far away from the metal arm as possible. It wasn’t necessarily a habit for him to spend the night with her, but it was starting to happen more often. As such, it was inevitable for her to encounter his nightmares. The first time it happened, she’d slept through the whole thing, and he laid awake next to her for the rest of the night. The second time, she woke up before him, and made the mistake of shaking his shoulder to try and pull him from it. Luckily her wrist hadn’t bruised from where he grabbed it in his sleep, and she was able to pry it loose before he was conscious. Now, the third time, she’d learned the proper and effective way to wake him. 

“I’m sorry I woke you.” he said softly, blinking his eyes and pinching his brows as his mind tried to consolidate. The Soldier wasn’t primary right now, but he could still feel the lingering presence of everything the scientists did to him. He didn’t look at her, instead resting his forehead in his hand as he ran through his mantra:  _ My name is Bucky. I live in Bucharest. I work at the pub. I have a girl named Mika… _

Said girl crawled across the bed, sliding her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek against him. “Don’t be sorry. You’re okay now, you’re safe here with me.” she murmured, kissing his shoulder and hugging him tightly. He put his hand on her arm, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin and focusing on the feel of it, breathing in the strong scent of her flowery shampoo. He’d never get tired of that smell. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll be okay.” he said, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it. She didn’t let go, intertwining their fingers as she moved so she could look him right in the eye.

“Nonsense. Do you want to talk about it?” she said, holding his hand in both of hers and clutching it to her chest. He could feel her heartbeat, strong and sure, underneath his fingertips. He didn’t want to talk about it, not really. Mika was everything good about his present life, everything that he wanted to think about and focus on. He knew he would never forget all the atrocities they did to him, and all the horrible things he’d done, but he could do his best not to dwell on them. He had to push forward, had to make himself better, had to make up for it.

“No. Not tonight.” he said, his voice still quiet. She was loving and supportive, but he did not want to stress her with the details. She made him want to be a more positive person. She rubbed his back in a soothing manner, not pressing it even though she thought it might help him if he actually spoke what was on his mind.

“I’ll make you some tea. Go shower real quick.” she said, pushing his sweaty hair aside so she could kiss his cheek. He grasped her hand as she got up, pulling her back so he could lay his forehead against hers for a moment.

“Thank you.” he said. He longed for the day when the nightmares would stop plaguing him, but it was a tremendous relief to know that, at least for now, he had Mika there to help him. He could certainly center himself on his own, but it was so much easier when she was there. She smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. It took him a moment to remember to kiss her back, and after being stuck in a nightmare, it felt like he was kissing her for the first time all over again. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead she just gently touched his cheek before going to the kitchen. 

Once he was alone in her room, he was tempted to leave. This was the third time he’d had a nightmare in her bed, and the third time he’d been lucky not to hurt her in his sleep. But he could hear her humming in the kitchen as she made tea, and his heart burned with so much affection for her that he knew there was no way he would go back to his cold apartment by himself when he had the opportunity to lay with her in his arms. So he took his shower, and drank his tea, and attempted to settle back in bed with her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined. He didn’t worry about harming her now; there was no way he was going back to sleep tonight. 

It was a quiet night, and it wasn’t long before Mika was back asleep, her breath tickling his chest. “Mika?” he whispered, trying to see if she was still awake. This was a game he’d been playing the past few nights, practicing for when he’d actually get the gumption to try it when she was conscious. She didn’t move and her breath didn’t hitch as he whispered her name again, so he carefully whispered, “I love you.”

The words felt foreign in his mouth, but he knew that was the way to describe how he felt about her. He wanted to tell her, but he felt like he needed to practice it more first. He didn’t know if he could handle the look on her face if she didn’t love him too - or, if she did. But no matter what, it was true. In whatever bit of fractured and broken heart he still had after everything he’d done, he loved her. What was it that man had said in her favorite movie?  _ Most ardently _ . That summed it up nicely, he thought. 

Mika’s alarm went off earlier than it usually did, which confused him. She must have a conference call with someone in a later time zone this morning or something. She groaned as she reached across him to turn it off, collapsing against him with a dramatic sigh and making him laugh. He smoothed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she nuzzled into him, soaking in his warmth in the cool early morning air. 

“Good morning.” he said, his voice making her ear buzz. She loved waking up next to him, starting her day with his embrace and his kiss. Even if there were other physical milestones they hadn’t gotten to yet, she was content with this. 

“Morning.” she mumbled, her face still in his chest. She stayed there a few minutes longer before prying herself from his hold, immediately whining at the change in temperature. He sat up with her, and she leaned forward to kiss him. “Happy birthday.”   


That surprised him. Even with all her talk of celebrations, he’d forgotten that today was his birthday. The sentiment immediately brought a smile to his face, as he quite literally could not remember who was the last person to wish him a happy birthday. 

“Thank you.” he replied, now for an entirely different reason than a few hours ago. He squeezed her hand affectionately before rolling out of bed, pulling on his sweatpants. “Do you want oatmeal for breakfast?”

“You can’t cook on your birthday.” she said, as vehemently as she could at the early morning hour. He gave her a devilish smirk.

“Oh? Then what will we have for breakfast then? We finished the bread yesterday.” he pointed out, waiting to see what she came up with.

“I can pour a mean bowl of cereal, tell you what.” she said, finally pulling herself from underneath the covers and stretching her limbs. He rolled his eyes, if only to distract himself by the bit of skin that peeked out from underneath her pajama top.

“Oatmeal it is then.” he said, going into her kitchen while she did her morning wash up. He now felt almost as comfortable in her apartment as he did in his own, which surprised him at times. He put the pot of milk on the stove and carefully spooned oats into it, stirring them around before putting the top on and letting their breakfast simmer. Normally he’d fry some vegetables for himself and cut up some fruit for Mika (“this is too healthy, where’s the chocolate?”), but today he decided to keep it simple with ham for himself and honey with cinnamon for her. Besides, she was out of fruit and vegetables, and apparently it was his birthday. Mika came in and made them coffee, stirring sugar in milk into hers as he put the finishing touches on breakfast. 

Back in the day, he’d hear people talk about “domestic bliss” and figured that was either the most romantic or most bullshit thing he’d ever heard. But sitting at the kitchen island with Mika as she scrolled through her phone and he worked one of his puzzles, idly eating their breakfast and drinking their coffee, he finally understood the phrase. He knew he didn’t deserve this, but he was lucky enough to have it, and was not going to take it for granted. 

“Alright, now I’ve got to kick you out.” she said after they finished their food and coffee. Bucky was surprised; she’d never kicked him out before. Had he done something offensive without realizing it? He ran back through the morning, but couldn’t think of anything wrong he’d done. Was this about his nightmare?

“Everything alright?” he asked. If he needed to fix something, he would do it. He just needed to know what it was. But she gave him a big smile and said,

“Of course it is. But I have to work and get prepared for our celebration tonight.” she explained, making his blood go cold.

“I thought we were just having a quiet night together.” he said, his words slow and careful. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful for whatever she had planned, but he also knew that they had very different opinions on what constituted a fun night. She patted his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

“We are. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and make it a little special for you.” she said, gathering up the dishes and going to the sink to wash them.

“You know I hate surprises.” he pointed out, wanting her to tell him exactly what her plan was. She put down the bowl she was washing, drying her hands so she could come over and put them on his cheeks.

“I promise, it will be you and me only. You’re going to like it.” she said. He let out a sigh that was almost a growl, which only made her smirk grow wider. “Now, go treat yourself. I have a lot of preparation to take care of.”

“If you say so.” he said, resigning himself to the fact that she was determined to keep this a secret. 

“Oh, I say so.” she said, giving him a big kiss before turning him towards the door, patting his rear so he got the idea. He made a frustrated noise but followed her instructions, getting his baseball cap from where he left it on her table before letting himself out of her apartment. 

Mika did have a busy day ahead of her. She’d gotten up early so she could get her work done, that way she would have plenty of time this afternoon to get everything situated. She wasn’t doing anything extravagant for Bucky’s birthday (by her definition, at least), but she did have many easy things that would require a lot of time. So she sat dutifully at her kitchen table until she got her eight hours done, and then she was off to the store. Bucky would be at work at the pub by now, so there was no worry about running into him in town. But Hans had agreed to let him off an hour early for his birthday, so she did have to factor that into her plans. Bucky, for his part, could barely take his eyes off the clock while at work, his emotions somewhere between anxious and excited as he waited to see what Mika had in store for him. The clock ticked past the hour and he pulled off his apron, his goodbye to Hans quicker than it usually was as he made his way back home. He made a quick stop at his own apartment as he always did, making sure everything was in its place, before showering and going over to knock on Mika’s door.

“There’s the birthday boy!” she said with a huge smile. He anticipated her being dressed for a night in, but instead she was layered as if they were going outside. The plan was supposed to be to stay in. What was going on?

“Do I need a jacket?” he asked, eyeing her. She had the big bag she usually used for the farmer’s market, though it wasn’t nearly as full. 

“Probably. Oh, and can you carry this for me?” she asked, handing him a thick blanket he hadn’t seen before. He wondered if she just hadn’t used it, or if she’d bought it especially for tonight. He nodded and took it from her, hanging it over his metal arm as he went back and picked up his jacket.

“Where are we going?” he asked, returning to the hallway. She was nearly bursting with excitement to tell him, and he was nearly bursting with anxiety to find out. He really,  _ really _ hated surprises.

“You and I are going to have a picnic on the roof. No one but us.” she said happily, and he felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. She shifted her bag and pulled a pin from her hair, going to pick the lock of the third door on their floor. Once open, it revealed a single flight of stairs that he assumed led to the roof. 

It was a cool night, but the icy cold winds of winter were on their way out, and the fresh smell of new spring life was making its way in. Mika had Bucky lay out the blanket before sitting on it, patting the space next to her. A year ago, he would have put as much space between them as possible, but tonight, he sat right next to her, resting with his arm behind her. She unpacked her secret bag, pulling out a bottle of wine, a plastic container with different kinds of cheeses, and something wrapped in a towel. She handed the last item to him, and he found that it was warm, and smelled of rosemary and sage. The last of his anxiety melted away, and he pulled the towel back to reveal a perfect loaf of herb bread, fresh from the oven and made just for him. The spread was simple, but it still made his heart swell. She gave him one of her brilliant smiles, and he could hear the words circling in his head,  _ I love you, I love you, I love you _ . 

“Let’s get this birthday party started!” she said before he could get it out of his mouth. He grinned then, tucking the words away for another time. She pulled the cork from the bottle and filled their glasses, raising her glass to him. They did nothing more than tear bits of bread from the loaf and drink their wine, chatting idly and poking fun at each other, but it was the best birthday he ever had. 

When the bread and cheese were gone and the bottle was exhausted, there was not much more to do except lay on the blanket and look up at the moon. It kept coming in and out of view thanks to the clouds they couldn’t quite see, but the lights from the streetlamps below were enough to keep it from getting too dark. Mika moved her wine glass to the side, turning so that she was on her stomach and propped on her elbows, levelling Bucky with a look. He reached a hand up, pausing just a moment before brushing her hair away from her face. 

“So, just how old are you today? You’ve never given me a straight answer.” she asked, finally cornering him. He let out a long breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to remember exactly what year he was born - and exactly what year it was now. When he finally did the math, he let out a laugh and covered his face with his hand.

“Ah, fuck.” he said, not wanting to say it out loud but knowing that there was no way he was going to get out of it. He sat up so that at least he could avoid looking her in the face as he said, “I’m ninety-nine.”

Mika’s jaw dropped, and there was a brief second of silence before she completely came apart with laughter, rolling around on the blanket and clutching her stomach. Bucky didn’t think it was that funny, but her absolute amusement had him chuckling as well. He knew he was old, but until that moment, he hadn’t realized exactly  _ how _ old. 

“Oh my God, you’re  _ ancient _ !” Mika choked out through her giggles, poking him in the side. He rolled his eyes. Hell, now the old jokes were never going to stop. “How do you climb the stairs every day without breaking a hip?”

“It’s a miracle every time.” he deadpanned, though his chest still shook with laughter at the situation. What had his life come to?

“We’ll have to put you in a home soon.” she continued, still cackling madly at her own jokes. He rolled his eyes, deciding that since it was his birthday, he didn’t want to deal with this.

“I’ve still got a few moves in these old bones yet.” he said, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her up onto his lap. She made a surprised face, going silent with the sudden movement and grasping the front of his jacket as she stuck the landing. 

“Maybe you’ll show me someday.” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She was still being patient with him, but he was quickly growing impatient with himself. 

“Only if you want me to.” he replied, leaning forward to kiss her. She still tugged on his jacket, pulling him closer, and he nearly crushed her to his chest. She pulled away breathless, her heart skipping a beat at the serious look in his eye.

“I definitely want you to.” she said, patting his sternum. “But first, we have dessert.”

“You know I don’t-”

“Yea yea yea, you don’t like sweets. But I thought long and hard about this one, so just humor me, okay?” she said, scrambling off him and going to her bag. Once she found the new plastic container, she moved back to him, and he was glad when she returned to his lap instead of the spot next to him.

“So what are we trying now?” he asked, his arm resting casually around her back. She leaned against him, soaking in his warmth and his closeness as she pulled the top off the container. He smelled butter, but not really any sugar, which intrigued him.

“Close your eyes.” she ordered before he could see what she was holding. He sighed, but obliged, the fingers of his metal hand gripping the blanket ever so slightly with his nerves. He knew Mika wasn’t a threat, but the vulnerable position was still difficult for him. She was probably the only one that he would allow to be around him like this. He heard her move the container lid, and pick up something from its depths. She touched it to his lips, and he held his breath as he took a cautious bite. The first thing he tasted was buttery pastry, followed by sweet, crispy apples. There wasn’t much sugar, and what little was there was offset by cinnamon and spices. It tasted familiar, and it tasted  _ good _ .

“Apple pie?” he asked, opening his eyes and forgetting to swallow before he spoke. She had a hopeful look on her face, still holding the small, round hand pie.

“Apple pie.” she said, taking a bite out of it herself. He could tell she was quite pleased with it, but she was still waiting for his reaction. “So?” she asked, wondering if her hundredth attempt was successful. He lingered for just long enough to make her antsy before leaning forward and taking a second bite from the pie, and then a third.

“It’s good. Really good.” he said, actually disappointed as she finished off the hand pie herself. It gave her the energy to leap up, dancing and basking in her victory.

“Yes! I’m the greatest baker in the world! Finally!” she yelled, spinning around and dancing to a song that only she could hear. Bucky let her have her moment, reaching into the container to have another pie - this one, all to himself. When she was finally finished with her triumph, he thought she was going to collapse next to him, but instead she moved so she was straddling him and holding his head to her chest. “It only took us ninety-nine years, but we found something you like. I’m so proud of you. I thought this moment would never come.”

“Found a lot of things I like.” he responded, pushing her back so he could look her in the eye. He actually saw her breath catch this time, and when he closed the space between them for a kiss, she tasted of cinnamon and apples and springtime air. They kissed again, and again, and again, each one a little deeper, a little fuller. He could feel her heart beating against him, feel as its pace quickened. His scalp tingled where her fingers ran through his hair, his beard scruffing against her chin as their lips moved against each other.

“Is there...anything else you wanted for your birthday?” she whispered, her lips still right next to his. The hopeful look was on her face again, and he did not plan to disappoint her this time either.

“If you’ll have me.” he whispered back, his hands moving over her waist in a rare display of nerves. He wanted to be honest with her, vulnerable with her...just  _ with _ her in general. He was ready. Ready to try and move forward, ready to be the man that she deserved. 

“Of course I will.” she said with a smile, pressing a searing kiss to his lips. The kisses were different now, excited and feverish and telling of things to come. They felt warm, even in the cool night air, as he kissed her freely for what felt like the first time.

_ Drop. Drop-drop. _

Their kisses stopped immediately, and on Mika’s face were three fat raindrops. One fell on Bucky’s forehead, and then on his hand. Then, the sky opened up and let loose a deluge, soaking them in moments and causing her to screech and leap up, scrambling for his hand and pulling him toward the door.

“But your stuff!” he said. It was just a bit of water. Well, more than a bit, really, but they could survive.

“Leave it! Casualties!” she cried, still dragging him to the door with more strength than he thought her capable of. He conceded, laughing at her as she practically flew down the steps and back into the building. She was already shivering as they went into her apartment, though it probably didn’t help that he shook out his wet hair like a dog. 

“You alright?” he asked as they pulled off their wet outer layers. Luckily their jackets seemed to have taken the brunt of the attack, but her curls from earlier were now flat and frizzy, and her cheeks were tinged pink from the fight or flight instinct that kicked in with the weather change. They could still hear the rain coming down outside, falling heavily against the windows and making the low lamp light of her apartment seem even more romantic. He thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

“I am. Just cold now.” she laughed, wondering if he was going to change his mind about what he implied earlier. She hoped not, but she could certainly be understanding if he did. 

“Then let me warm you up.” he said, and she would have made fun of him for how cheesy the line was if he wasn’t looking at her the way he was. Instead, she met him halfway in a kiss, picking up exactly where they’d left off. 

After all, she was determined for him to have a good birthday.


	35. Birthday Shenanigans, Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This is the "eventual smut" that the tags talked about. (do i need to up the rating? i'm still new to AO3).

Mika had never been kissed like this in her life. 

Bucky was holding her so gently, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, but his kisses were hot and deep and burning with an affection that he hadn’t shown. She’d seen glimpses of this from him before, but this was the first time that he’d allowed himself to express it fully. She wanted to let him lead, let him set the pace for their night, but she could feel his fingers flexing ever so slightly on her back, hesitating as he tried to decide whether to take the initiative. She almost wanted to laugh - both of them were stuck in their kisses, not wanting to overstep boundaries, but very much desiring for things to progress. It was just a matter of who was going to make the first move. She thought of all the times he asked before touching her, how he always waited for her permission. And she knew that even if he was the hesitant one, he was leaving it up to her. 

Her hands traced from his shoulders to the front of his shirt, grasping it and pulling him with her until her back hit the island. He easily lifted her onto it, and then his grip softened as he pulled away. For a moment, Mika feared that he was going to change his mind. She was almost aching for him, and while she would respect his wishes, she could not deny she would be disappointed. 

“Can we go slowly?” he asked, his voice low and raspy since his mouth had gone dry. He didn’t want to rush things, he wanted to take his time and commit every bit of this to memory. He was willing to forget everything else in his life, but he wanted to remember this night. 

“Of course. As slowly as you need.” Mika whispered, smoothing the cotton of his shirt and looking at him with her big brown eyes. His heart leapt at the honesty in her face, and the affection she showed. He reached up, carefully laying his palm against her sternum so he could feel her heart racing. She could have anything she wanted, and she wanted him. He closed the space between them then, his hand going behind her head and his lips gently pressing against hers. This kiss was softer, more tender, telling of the feelings that he couldn’t bear to say out loud.

Her hands ran over his chest, her fingertips light on the soft fabric until she reached the hem of it. They were still layered for the last of the winter weather, and she carefully moved underneath the cotton of the henley. He let go of her then, allowing her to pull the shirt up and over his head. The flannel underneath was easier to grasp and bring him back in for another kiss. His touch went to her legs then, sliding up her thighs to her hips. His thumbs toyed underneath the edge of her sweatshirt, and though she could feel the difference between his right and his left, the caress was equally delicate on both sides. He moved them up one inch, then two, and even if she wanted to just rip their clothes off and feel her skin against his, she waited as he slowly tugged it over her head, dropping it unceremoniously to the side and making her giggle. Her laughs were quieted as he once again pressed his lips to hers, this time a little deeper.

Her hands traveled to the buttons of his shirt, pausing for a breath before loosing the first one. When he kept kissing her without hesitation, she slowly undid the next one, and the next one, making her way down until it was completely open, and she was able to run her hands unhindered over his chest. Her fingers found the edges of his scars, and while her initial reaction was to shy away from them, she thought that might make him feel self conscious. She knew he thought his scars were ugly, but to her, they showed exactly how strong he was. She was sure they were a grisly reminder of his past, but she’d never known him without them. To her, they were a part of him. And she loved  _ all _ of him. 

“Should we move somewhere more...comfortable?” Bucky asked quietly, short of breath due to their kissing. Mika grinned, smoothing his hair away from his face. His heart was hammering and his eyes were alert, which usually meant that he had his guard up. But his hands were steady and his gaze sure, and she knew he finally felt confident in himself. 

“We can go wherever you want.” she replied, resting her arms on his shoulders. Bed, couch, kitchen island - she didn’t care, she only wanted him. He gave her his mischievous half smirk, his arm circling her waist as he effortlessly lifted her off the counter. She clung to him with arms and legs, letting out a shriek as he purposely walked to her bedroom, but of course she didn’t need to hold on that tight. To him, she was light as a feather.

He set her down next to the bed, and she immediately climbed onto it, standing on her knees and pulling him closer by the open edges of his shirt. She’d seen him shirtless plenty times before, and was this close to him the time she patched him up in the middle of the night, but this was different. Now she was allowed to feel the heat of his skin, the tone of his muscle, and the beat of his pulse as she touched him, her hands sliding over his chest and his shoulders to push the flannel off. It fell onto the floor with a soft  _ thump, _ and for a moment, he stopped.

“Alright?” Mika asked, just as breathless as he had been moments before. After being close to him for so long, she could see how he was noticing everything, processing everything.  _ Patience, Mika, _ she told herself.  _ All in due time _ . She’d waited this long, she could wait a little longer. His thoughts slowed and organized, and soon he was nodding.

“Alright.” he said, resting his forehead against hers and putting his hands on her waist. He gave a low chuckle, grinning at her as his fingers tapped against her skin. “Just feeling a little...exposed.”

“Well, you know, you don’t have to be alone in that.” she said pointedly, wondering if he could feel her heartbeat from where his hands were placed on her ribs. He looked so serious, and she couldn’t help but think he needed to lighten up a little. Sex was serious, yes, but it was also supposed to be  _ fun _ . “Though I understand, it’s hard undressing in front of someone for the first time.”

“I don’t mind nudity. The logistics concern me.” he said, carefully pulling up the edges of her shirt, but not taking it off completely. “Does that kill the mood?”

“I stopped listening after you said you don’t mind nudity.” she replied. It was untrue, of course. She listened to every word he ever said. But those were the only ones she wanted to focus on right now. He smirked then, his hands sliding up her ribs and her arms and taking her shirt with them. His eyes grazed over the lacy sight in front of him, his fingertips gently tracing over the edges, touching only the fabric and not her skin.

“You planned for this?” he said quietly, though it came across more as an observation than a question. The black lace shone in the low light from the living room, and dappled shadows appeared for a split second as far away lightning lit up the sky. He finally dragged his eyes back up to hers, an amused look on his face. She laughed breathlessly, biting her tongue and trying not to make another quip about age or pretend virginity. 

“I hoped for this.” she responded, which was the truth. He didn’t need to know that she’d been wearing lingerie every day for the past two weeks, hoping things would go this direction. This was her last set; she’d decided that if tonight didn’t happen, then he was just going to have to accept whatever mismatched undergarment set she had on when the desire struck. At least it was her favorite set, one that she’d been saving and had actually never worn for anyone else. Between her statement and the incredible sight in front of him, he found his mouth was suddenly a little dry again. He swallowed, licking his lips in an attempt to regain any dignity at having been floored simply by the vision of his girl in a bra. 

“I’ll try not to disappoint.” he replied, a little surprised at how raspy his voice was. He cleared his throat and tried to drop his gaze from hers, but she stopped him with her hands on his face. Her skin was much warmer than usual, telling of her excitement as much as the sound of her heart. 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” she said, her voice calm and assuring. But she couldn’t help but continue confidently with, “But just so we’re clear, I want to do everything you  _ are _ comfortable with.”

“Duly noted.” he said, his spirit garnered at the encouragement. His hand traced over her hip and up her back, taking in the feel of her skin there as he said, “I would very much like to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.” she replied. The give and take, the slow progression of things, was doing nothing more than turning her on further. The kiss he gave her was not the feverish ones they’d started with, nor one of the tender ones he’d given her earlier, but somewhere in between, enough to make her blood boil and her heart race with anticipation. She hooked her fingers onto his belt loops, dragging him with her as she laid back on her bed. He hovered above her, his knees between her thighs and his hands on either side of her shoulders, the metal one clicking quietly as he adjusted his position. His eyes traveled over her again, committing this view to his memory before he settled on top of her, giving a searing kiss once again. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, pulling him flush against her and enjoying being smothered by his warmth. 

“Can I kiss you here?” he asked, tracing his lips down to her neck. His breath tickled her skin, and she had to hold back a whine to try and get him to go ahead and kiss her. She bit her lip, shifting against him and shuddering at the friction between them; she couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before.

“You can kiss me wherever you want.” she said definitively, and he needed no further permission. She pressed her lips together to try and suppress the noise of her response as he pressed his lips to her neck, his beard scratching against her skin and making goosebumps go down her arms. He found the pulse point on her neck, feeling the rate rise as he gently sucked on it. It wasn’t enough to leave a mark, but it was enough to make her squeeze his hips with her legs and her fingers dig into his shoulder blade. He touched the clasp of her bra, feeling out exactly how it worked ( _ much _ simpler than the last time he’d encountered one) before looking up at her with a silent question. But while he just wanted to ask if he could remove it, she thought he was asking something else. “Do you need my help to…”

“Oh, no.” he said, easily popping the clasps open with his one hand. But he couldn’t deny that he was still hesitant to remove it, somehow still afraid that he was going to do something she didn’t like. She pushed the straps down, giving him the assurance to take it off entirely. He couldn’t decide if he was in a dream, or if he was simply the luckiest man in the world. He slid a tentative hand up her ribs before taking a soft handful, her eyes fluttering shut at the contact. He pressed a kiss to her sternum. “Anywhere I want?” he asked, referring to her earlier statement.

“Anywhere you want.” she reiterated, and he dropped his head to start pressing kisses over the delicate skin in front of him, his tongue tasting the more sensitive areas of her. Her back arched at these ministrations, her hands holding him longer in the places that she preferred. Her legs were fidgeting, moving her hips in an attempt to get some stimulation in  _ other _ areas. He listened to her silent demands, his hand moving down to her thigh. Before he could verbally ask if this what she wanted, she interrupted with, “Please.” 

“As you wish.” he said, his hand dropping below the waistband of her leggings and making her gasp, her hips moving ever so slightly in time with his motions. He was pleased to find that she was responding very readily to their activities, his certainty in his actions solidifying. While he would still ask, she was making it apparent that she did, in fact, want this. And he did as well. He wondered exactly how much societal norms had changed in the past seventy-five or so years, and decided to test his luck. “Anywhere I want?”

“ _ Anywhere _ .” she breathed, as if she knew what he meant. He removed his hand, instead taking hold of her leggings and kissing his way down her stomach before sitting back on his heels.

“You know, back in my day,” he started, slowly peeling off her leggings and underwear. “only  _ certain kinds _ of people were willing to do specific acts for their partners.”

“And were you a  _ certain kind _ of man?” she asked, not bothering to hide the hope in her tone. He smiled, pressing a kiss to her knees before prying them apart.

“Never understood what was so wrong about making my girl feel good.” he said lowly, making her heart skip a beat or two. He kissed her thigh, then a little further up, and a little further up, stopping just short of where she wanted him, only to ask, “Is this something you want?”

“God yes, Bucky please.” she said, not caring how desperate she sounded. She was aching for any sort of touch from him. He pressed his lips to her then, and she couldn’t stop the moan from escaping her, though she tried to muffle it with a hand over her mouth. It took a few tries for him to remember exactly what he wanted to do, but the noises she made also cued him into what was effective. Again he remembered a time from before he was the Soldier, but found that the taste of her was better than anything he encountered before, and the quiet responses from her practically music to his ears. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and from her lips flowed a stream of curses and gasps, punctuated by his name and the occasional  _ God! _ or  _ yes _ . It was and embarrassingly short amount of time before she started feeling the familiar build deep in her stomach, and while she tried to warn him, he already seemed to pick up on it, moving his tongue in a way that made her fall silent and see stars as she reached her peak. Her thighs squeezed his ears tighter than his hands squeezed her hips, his movements unrelenting until she collapsed against the pillows, panting and pushing her hair away from her face.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he crawled back up to kiss her, proud that he’d not lost his touch. “Told you I wasn’t a virgin.” he murmured, making her laugh and hug him close.

“Well it’s certainly not the first time you’ve done that.” she replied, kissing him fully and trailing her hands down to his belt. His abs tensed as she did so, but he didn’t stop her and she unbuckled it and unbuttoned his jeans. They fell slightly over his hips, but she didn’t push them off quite yet, instead returning her hands to his shoulders and guiding him until he was laying on his back, his hands already gripping the sheets in his nerves. Mika noticed, of course, and paused with her hands on his pants. “Alright?”

“Alright.” he replied, and she gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. He gave an apprehensive laugh, running his hand through his hair. “Excited, I guess. A little confused.”

“Confused? Why confused?” she asked, pulling his jeans off, but leaving his underwear on. She didn’t want to move too quickly, and his earlier actions were able to give her a little more patience now. She sat between his knees, her hands running over his legs as she waited for his answer. She could feel the spot on the back of his calf where they’d burned the tattoo from him, but he didn’t flinch as she ran her hand over it.

“Just don’t remember being on my back very often.” he answered honestly, and then it was her turned to be confused. She assumed some things were different than the last time he’d partaken in these activities, but perhaps it was more than she bargained for. She laid against his stomach, looking up at him with her head cocked to the side.

“Well, you can sit if you want. Or stand. Or be on your knees. Whatever suits you, really. I just figured you deserved to relax a little bit.” she explained, pressing a kiss to his stomach. She saw the moment as he understood her meaning, his surprise apparent for a split second.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” he whispered, reaching up to tenderly rub his thumb over her cheek. She furrowed her brows, sitting back on her knees. She’d never,  _ never _ , had a man tell her she  _ didn’t have to _ . 

“And if I want to?” she asked, and she could see his stomach tighten with the visceral reaction the question gave him. He took in a long breath, sitting up so that their faces were close.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, and she remembered his earlier comment about a  _ certain type _ back in his day. Was that why he was so hesitant? 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she persisted, and his eyes dropped as he shrugged. “I mean, if you don’t want it, it won’t hurt my feelings, I promise.”

“I’ve just…” he paused, trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say, exactly how he wanted to admit this to her. “It’s not something I’ve experienced before.” Besides the obvious state of vulnerability, there was also a concern of the unknown. But would she offer it, if she didn’t think he would enjoy it? Her eyebrows shot up at the confession.

“You’re telling me, that you would give women the best time of their life, and not a single one felt the desire to return the favor?” she said, shocked at his words. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck to try and dissipate the warmth there. This was, by far, the most candid he’d been in...perhaps his entire life. She pushed him back onto his back, kissing him and reaching down to palm over him. His body responded readily, and he let out a small noise of surprise and pleasure. “Well nowadays, it’s only polite to reciprocate.”

“Is it?” he asked, still uncertain, and not wanting her to do anything she didn’t want to. She grinned, nodding emphatically.

“Is it so wrong to want to make my boyfriend feel good?” she said with a grin, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Is it something you want to experience?” 

He took another deep breath before going with his gut (or perhaps, a little lower) and nodding. She smiled, kissing down his chest as her hands pushed down his boxer-briefs, eventually taking them off completely and leaving him exposed. And while his heart did flutter with nerves for a moment, overall he felt excitement. She put her hand on him first, the sensation leading him to take in a sharp breath. Her movements were slow, careful, steady. She wasn’t trying to speed things along, which he was happy for. She wasn’t exactly known to be patient, except when it came to him. When he seemed used to that, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, just a little bit at first, and then a little bit more. He felt like a jolt of electricity traveled through him, but this time in a pleasurable way, as opposed to when he was hit with actual electricity. He blinked away the stars in front of his eyes, his hands gripping her sheets tightly as she did things with her tongue that he never imagined. He thought he might be embarrassed by his reactions to what she was doing, with his toes curling and his chest heaving, but he couldn’t focus past the amazing feelings radiating through his body. And from her view, him so blatantly enjoying what was happening was only getting her more eager for what was to come. He had nothing to compare this feeling to from his time before, and he thought that if things went for much longer, then they might not actually make it to the sex part. He sat up and pushed her off, and for a second she looked worried before she realized why he’d stopped her. 

“Thoughts?” she asked, moving so that she was straddling him, sitting on his thighs. The smirk on her face told of how proud she was of herself. She pushed his hair back so she could see his piercing blue eyes, waiting for his answer, and he let out another laugh, resting his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes for a second.

“Fucking brilliant, honestly.” he said, and she threw her head back in laughter, giving him ample opportunity to kiss her neck again and make her laughter turn into a sigh. His right arm circled around her as he asked, “Do you still want this?”

“Very much so. Do you?” she asked, putting her hands on his cheeks so he was looking at her directly again. He ducked his head for a moment to press a kiss to her chest before returning his eyes to hers.

“I do.” he replied. Again, the words that had been plaguing him for the past however many days ran around his head,  _ I love you, I love you, I love you _ . He laughed in a self-deprecating manner, shaking his head. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last, but I very much would like to do this with you, yes.”

“It’s okay, I probably won’t last long either.” she replied, biting her lip to prevent herself from rambling about how she loved him, how she wanted him more than anything, how they hadn’t even actually had sex yet but it was already the best time of her life. She might have thought before she knew what it was like to be in love with someone, but it wasn’t the same as this, wasn’t as  _ good _ as this. She wanted to hold onto him with two hands and never let go. She moved her hips so they were closer together, her arms going around his neck as his hand dropped to her hip, gripping her tightly as she carefully worked them until they were joined. He let out a low groan, and she a high pitched whine at the contact. Just like touching her, holding her, kissing her, this was somehow  _ so much better _ than it used to be. The sensations were overwhelming, the feel of her skin and the smell of her hair and the sounds she was making as she moved up and down enough to make any thoughts about  _ training _ or  _ logistics _ or  _ perimeters _ completely dissolve. He didn’t dare try and hold her with his metal hand right now, not trusting himself to keep control of it. 

He could feel as things progressed, bringing back feelings he never thought he’d experience again. Her hand moved between them as she helped herself; normally he would consider that his job, but right now he was doing well just to hold onto her and not completely lose himself at how  _ good _ everything felt. He tried his best, lasting as long as he possibly could, kissing and nipping at the skin in front of him. Her fingers were digging into his back, and beside the fact that it physically felt amazing to be this close to him, her heart was singing as he leaned into her, as her name tumbled from his lips and into her neck. It wasn’t long until she was going over the edge again, tightening around him and holding her breath. That was all he needed for his release to rock through him, his hand firmly moving her hips so they could each ride it out. God, even  _ this _ was better with her. 

After they’d both come down from their high and were left gasping for air, she gave him the softest kiss he’d ever experienced, the perfect ending to the night. She smiled, running her hands over his arms, the metal one cold against the hot skin of her hand. “Alright?”

“‘Alright’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.” he said, trying to untangle his hand from the sheets so he could hug her and noticing that a large rip now ran along the side of the bed. “Ah, shit. I tore your sheets. I’m so sorry.”

She laughed, much harder than was warranted, before climbing off of him. “That’s how you know it was  _ really _ good.” she said, still giggling as she tried to get her legs underneath her. She gave him one last kiss before going to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaving him alone in the silence. It suddenly felt cold and quiet now that she wasn’t there. He sat on the edge of the bed, getting his breathing and heart under control before picking up his underwear and pulling them back on. Again, his instincts told him to leave. He was clearly too vulnerable, too attached, too compromised. But he took a deep breath, and shoved those feelings down. He had a slice of happiness, and he was not going to waste it. 

The bathroom door opened, and he looked up to see Mika sauntering out from it. She was still naked, her hair a complete mess, and the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She stepped into her underwear as she walked back to him, settling on his thighs and leaning her head against his. The metal arm was still cold against her hand, and she ran it down the forearm before taking his hand and placing it against her sternum, sighing happily at the cool temperature. Bucky sat in awe; that arm had done nothing but harm until he came here, and now Mika was sitting here, unafraid of it, using it to cool herself down. The beat of her heart was just strong enough to register the pressure sensors, and he couldn’t help but pull her close to kiss her soundly.

“Thank you for tonight.” he said, cradling her close to his chest. She smiled, pressing her lips to his cheek.

“Oh, thank  _ you _ for tonight.” she said with a laugh. She bit her lip for a second before asking, “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

“Of course.” he said, without thinking about it first. This was the best he’d felt since the day he found out he was drafted, and he was not ready for it to be over.  _ I love you _ . She smiled brightly then, getting up and going to grab his flannel from the floor. He thought she was going to hand it to him, but instead she slipped her arms into it and did up some of the buttons, and he had to admit it looked much better on her. She bounced on the bed, pulling him back onto it and immediately laying her head on his chest. He put an arm around her, his thumb tracing over her shoulder. 

“Hey, Bucky?” she said quietly. He pressed a kiss to her head, his heart leaping at the tone of her voice.

“Yes, Little Bird?” he asked, wondering if she was about to speak the words that had been in his head recently. But somehow he knew she wouldn’t, knew that she would let him be the first to say them. 

“I really, really care about you.” she said instead, hoping that would get her meaning across. She hugged him tightly, and he responded in kind. “Thank you for sharing tonight with me.” 

“Anything for you.” he replied. Part of him knew that this was it, this was the perfect moment to tell her he loved her. But he could already feel her beginning to fall asleep, and he felt like he wanted to just bask in the moment they just shared before taking another step. He could always tell her tomorrow. Or the next day. Or every day after that, as long as she was willing to have him. He settled further into her bed, holding her close with a confidence he hadn’t had before. The rain still fell outside, a gentle lullaby from Mother Nature herself.

Somehow, he knew there would be no nightmares tonight.


	36. A New Day

The storm was gone by the time the sun started to rise, the first rays turning Mika’s room a hazy, happy grey. Bucky woke long before she did, but felt content to simply lay beside her, feeling her breath on his chest and hearing her heart beat slow and steady as she slept. Usually the mornings were the worst time of day for him; there was always a moment, between his nightmares and being fully awake, that he wasn’t sure who or where he was. But every morning he woke up next to Mika, he felt like he could center himself faster, and ground himself easier. His mother may have been disappointed (once upon a time) that he spent multiple nights shacking up with a girl, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed. For the first time in a long time, he woke up completely content. 

Mika’s breathing changed as she started to slowly ascend from her deep sleep, and she rolled away from him with a sigh. The hem of his flannel dragged over her waist as she stretched her arms over her head before settling in for a few more moments of rest. His eyes scanned over her legs and the curve of her hip, the details of the black lace underwear lost in the early morning light. But just above the waistband, he saw three evenly spaced bruises. They were faint, but they were there, and he had a sneaking suspicion that there was a fourth hiding beneath the lace. He held his breath as he sat up, his heart pounding painfully as he lightly placed his hand on her, his fingers matching up with the bruises on her skin. His stomach dropped, and he moved his hand away from her, feeling ashamed of himself even as she woke up and looked at him lovingly.

“Good morning.” she mumbled, reaching up to touch his hand. He shouldn’t allow himself to hold her, but he selfishly craved her affection. His emotion must have shown on his face, because her brow furrowed as she asked, “Is everything alright?”

“I hurt you.” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. Her eyebrows pinched even further together, and she wondered what would ever give him that impression. His eyes drifted to her middle, and she pulled up the side of his flannel to see what was concerning him. It took her a moment to find what he was talking about, and while he was expecting her to be upset, or afraid, she simply chuckled.

“Lay back down. It’s cold, I need you to keep me warm.” she said, trying to tug him back next to her. He remained in a seated position, his eyes colored with concern and confusion. Did she not see what he was talking about? He knew his eyesight was sharper than most, but the bruises were rather evident, a thin line of purple on her pale skin.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” he said, and he looked so positively heartbroken that she pushed herself up so they could be face to face. If he hadn’t pointed them out, she probably wouldn’t have noticed them. They certainly didn’t hurt.

“You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine, I promise.” she said, tenderly laying her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing the scruff of his beard. How could she make him see that? He leaned into her hand, his blue eyes gazing at her as he tried to find any signs of deceit. There weren’t any. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, still hesitant, still afraid that last night had been a dream, still afraid that  _ everything _ had been a dream and that he was going to wake up for real one of these days. She smiled encouragingly at him, leaning forward to lay a lingering kiss against his cheek.

“I’m positive.” she replied, pulling back. He still looked hesitant, which made her heart break a little bit. She didn’t want him to feel guilty over something that didn’t bother her, she wanted him to feel happy about what had transpired between them. She certainly did. “It’s not the first time I’ve ended up with a couple bruises, and hopefully not the last.” she added with a Cheshire grin. He seemed to relax at that, shaking his head and letting out a low chuckle.

“Full of shit.” he muttered. His heart was still pounding with his nerves, but at least his stomach had returned to its original position. Mika shrugged in response; it was true. She didn’t mind if things got a little rough during moments of passion. He looked at her seriously again. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I did. I really did.” she responded, eagerly and truthfully. “Did you?”

“Very much so.” he said immediately, his prompt response surprising her. He licked his lips and dropped his eyes, an emotion he couldn’t quite describe swirling around in his chest, diluting the love and affection that was there. “I couldn’t help but notice though, that you were...less than vocal.” 

Mika didn’t know why she was surprised at this observation. After all, Bucky noticed  _ everything _ . “That’s just because I know you don’t like loud noises.” she said honestly. She could sing his name to the high heavens for how he made her feel the night before, but she hadn’t wanted to risk making him uncomfortable. He laughed again at this, all his nerves now dissipating. He may notice everything, but she seemed to think of everything. 

“Perhaps there’s some loud noises I wouldn’t mind.” he said suggestively, giving her that trademark smirk. 

“Duly noted.” she said, playfully pushing his shoulder. He pretended the push was much harder than it was, falling back onto the mattress and tugging her with him. She giggled, accepting her fate and laying on his shoulder, their legs intertwined. She put her hand on his cheek again, this time directing his face so that she could give him a good and proper kiss, morning breath be damned. “I had a really,  _ really _ good time.”

“Double really, huh?” he asked, and once again his tone was laced with meaning. She laughed, nuzzling further into him.

“ _ Double _ really.” she replied, making her voice match his. She wished they could stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in each other’s arms in the quiet morning. She wanted to tell him exactly how strongly she felt for him, but didn’t want to push her luck. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a similar thought circling in his mind, but as he opened his mouth to voice it, he was interrupted by her stomach rumbling loudly. 

“Guess that means it’s time for breakfast.” he said, rubbing her back. She groaned, rolling slightly more onto him in an effort to prolong the moment. Breakfast could wait. 

“But I don’t want to get up.” she whined, wishing that the bakery down the street would deliver right to their bed. But alas, they didn’t even deliver to the door. 

“What if I make it for you?” he bartered, though he also would be more than happy to stay right where they were. She let out a drawn out noise as she thought about his offer.

“But then you won’t be here.” she pointed out, making him laugh. He kissed her hair again, squeezing her tightly to him. He didn’t want to let her go, but she was obviously hungry, and he felt his stomach gnawing at him as well. With the excess exercise the night before, he was ready for a big breakfast.

“But then we’ll have food.” he said, and she heaved a heavy sigh.

“If that’s the price I must pay for sustenance...no, nevermind. It’s too high.” she said dramatically, making him roll his eyes. She still didn’t move from her position, and her stomach growled so aggressively that he could actually feel it. His grumbled as well, almost in response to hers, which made her laugh and rub her hand over his abdomen. “Okay fine, I guess we shouldn’t just starve to death.”

“You stay here. I’ll take care of it.” he said softly, prying himself from her arms and immediately regretting it. She pulled the covers back over her, snuggling into the warm space he’d just vacated.

“I’ll miss you.” she said, her voice muffled by the comforter. The air was much cooler than under the blankets, which wasn’t ideal, but he had to eat  _ something _ . And she did too. It felt oddly normal, padding across her apartment in just his underwear to go inspect the contents of her kitchen. With a sigh, he realized he’d forgotten to go to the store yesterday, and the cupboards were pretty much bare. A glance out the window told him that at least the morning was clear, so he wouldn’t have to worry about another random rain storm. 

“You’ve got nothing in the kitchen.” he said, coming back into her room to try and find his pants. They were still on the floor where she’d discarded them the night before, and she pouted as he picked them up and pulled them back on.

“Guess that means you have to come back to bed with me.” she said suggestively, patting the spot on the mattress next to her. He felt his heart rate raise at the idea, and even if he was still hesitant about it, last night had proven that he could enjoy himself again. But as his stomach ached, he decided to take care of his literal hunger first. 

“It means I have to go to the store. Any chance I’m getting that shirt back?” he asked, and in response she rolled over and laid spread eagle on her back.

“You’ll have to take it off me and pay the toll.” she replied. He laughed, shaking his head as he got onto the bed, carefully positioning himself over her. He was on his hands and knees, just as he’d been for a moment the night before, and she was looking at him with a hopeful expression. He leaned down to give her a searing kiss, her hands tangling in his hair. He kissed her for a moment before pulling back, smirking in response to her pout.

“I do have to eat something besides you today.” he said, her jaw dropping as he moved off the bed again. She let out a frustrated groan as he put on his socks.

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” she said, poking at him with her toe. He grabbed her foot, pulling her just enough to make her squeal and pressing his lips to her knee.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” he replied. He very,  _ very _ much wanted to do the things they did the night before, but the bruises were still in the back of his mind. He felt confident that he would have better control next time, but he still needed some time to process, time to get everything in order so that next time,  _ next time _ , she wouldn’t end up with his fingerprints on her skin. 

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting your return.” she said, still a little salty that he was leaving her in such a state. He patted her knee once more before getting up again, this time going to the kitchen to retrieve his other shirt. He called a goodbye to her before exiting the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him. As he walked down the stairs, he could still feel the grip of his past around him, but today it didn’t seem as strong. When he got to the sidewalk, the day seemed brighter, the air clearer. Today, for the first time, he thought that things were actually going to work out just fine. 

The market was a little busier than when he usually went, likely due to the later morning hour. But he didn’t mind it so much. He went to his usual places, purchasing the vegetables and meat they would need for breakfast and lunch. He eyed the first harvest of peaches at a stand, but they were too green, not yet ripe. They wouldn’t do for Mika; she preferred them sweet. He wandered through, looking through the fruit and trying to find something that was able to ripen in the early spring. The apples looked good, though they’d take too long to cook for breakfast. He purchased some anyways, figuring maybe she could make some more pies, since they lost theirs to the rain last night. Most everything seemed too early to buy, and he’d nearly accepted Mika’s fate for cinnamon and cream again, when he spotted the plums at the very last stand. Their skin was dark purple, telling to the sweetness inside.

“How are they? Are they good?” he asked the man at the stand, who grinned and laughed jovially. Perhaps everyone was in as good a mood as Bucky this morning. He picked up a couple, inspecting them. Yes, these would do nicely.

“Very good, of course!” the man exclaimed, and Bucky was inclined to agree. The man pulled out a plastic bag, taking the ones he selected and putting them together for him. Bucky gave him the necessary cash before carefully tucking the plums away in his backpack, nestling them amongst the other foods so that they wouldn’t bruise. Happy with his spoils, he started the trek back home. 

The walk took longer than usual, thanks to the increased foot and street traffic. Bucky kept his head down, his habits to escape detection still strong despite all the other improvements he’d made. He stopped at a street, sirens alerting him and the other pedestrians to an approaching police car. He grew very still, waiting with the others as the car came and went. He took a deep breath, looking up to see if the light for the crossing had changed yet. That’s when he noticed the man at the newspaper stand. 

He hadn’t been to the newspaper stand in a couple days, and at first he thought the young man was just recognizing his faithful customer. But Bucky could tell something was different. He was looking at him in a way that no one had in over two years: with fear. The light changed, and he slowly walked across the street with the rest of the pedestrians. The young man, now blatantly afraid of him, slipped away from his post and ran away. Bucky could hear his heartbeat in his ears; what was going on? What had he missed? He went up to the stand, pulling the newspaper to him. There, on the front page, was a man who looked like him. He scanned the article quickly, gleaning the basics. There’d been a bomb at a UN meeting, and a source that said he planted it. The entirety of Europe was looking for him.

He’d been found.

This time, he followed his instinct to leave, turning away from the stand and walking east. But he only made it a block before he slowed, remembering Mika, who was home alone with no knowledge of the events and no one to protect her if an enemy came looking. He turned on his heel, walking back to the apartment at double the speed he’d been going before. He had to warn her, had to make sure she was safe before he left. He couldn’t stay, of course, as that would just put her into further danger. The little bubble they’d been living in happily for the past few months had burst, and now his only priority was making sure she was alright before he left to ensure her safety. He pulled out his phone as he walked, dialing a number that he’d added but never used. He hoped that Ion, the young man he used to work with at the warehouse, wasn’t up to date on current events.

“M’lo?” he answered, obviously still asleep. Good, perhaps he would be blissfully unaware. 

“Ion, it’s Bu-Jones.” he interrupted himself, remembering the pseudonym he’d given to the men at work. “I’m calling in that favor.”

“Absolutely, Jones. What do you need?” Ion said, sounding much more awake now. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on, which was well enough to Bucky. He didn’t need him asking any more questions than necessary.

“I can’t get into it now, but I’m going to send you an address and I need you to go there in an hour.” Bucky said, his eyes scanning in a fast, efficient manner as he continued to walk home. Ion made a confused noise.

“This isn’t like, a drug drop or anything, right?” he asked, and if Bucky hadn’t been at the highest alert level, he might have laughed. But time was of the essence right now, and he couldn’t afford to have his attention split for much longer.

“No. I need you to make sure Mika is alright.” he replied. It killed him to ask another man to check on his girl, but he needed to be sure she’d have someone to support her. He wished he could call Hans, but he was too close to him. He didn’t want to drag the bartender into this too. Ion was young, and they hadn’t had contact since that day outside the cafe. No one would think of him, no one would know him.

“Jones, what’s going on?” Ion dared to ask. Bucky sighed, shaking his head even though he couldn’t see him.

“I don’t have time to explain. Just promise me you’ll go.” Bucky said, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. Ion picked up on it immediately.

“I promise. Just, be safe Jones, okay?” he asked, and again Bucky almost laughed. What a day for people to be sentimental.

“Thank you.” he said, hanging up before Ion could continue the conversation. He typed a text as fast as he could with his one hand, sending him the address for their apartments and the number of Mika’s. With that taken care of, he could focus on getting home to her. No one was surrounding the apartment yet, and no one gave him another glance on the sidewalk. Perhaps he’d have just enough time to say goodbye.

She didn’t notice as he let himself in, humming along to the song playing through her speakers as she made coffee. She was stirring sugar into the cup he’d gotten her for Christmas, and another steaming mug was sitting next to it, likely holding a drink for him. She was still in just his flannel and her underwear, her thick winter socks letting her slide across the floor as she danced to the tune. Her hair was messy from sleep and her legs were bare, and for a moment he just blatantly stared at how beautiful she was, and contemplated how lucky he’d been. He wanted to remember this moment, likely the last time he would see her. As she turned to him with a smile that slowly fell, he knew his luck had run out.

“What is it? What happened?” she asked, concern painting her voice. He looked more worried than she’d ever seen him, and he didn’t say anything, which only made it worse. She put down her mug, quickly crossing the apartment to take his hands. His breaths were short, as if he were holding it half the time. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” 

“They found me.” he whispered, unable to make his voice any louder. It was one thing to think about leaving her when he was alone on the walk home, but now, with her right in front of him, he could feel his heart breaking. But he had to leave; he couldn’t risk her getting hurt - or worse. Her eyes widened at his statement, her hands immediately going to his shoulders. Her eyes were unfocused for a second, and he knew that she was trying to see the puzzle, trying to solve it. But there was nothing she could do about this one.

“Okay, well, we need to pack then. If we go now, we can get on a train - I think I still have a friend from school in Athens, or...or...I have a friend in America, on the west coast, he’ll let us stay with him-” she started to walk away, presumably to start gathering clothes, but he grabbed her wrist, halting her progress. She turned back to him, and he could see on her face that she was afraid of what he was going to say next.

“No, you have to stay here. It’s me they want, and if they find you…” he couldn’t finish the thought, let alone the sentence. He’d finally started healing after all the torture inflicted upon him by Hydra, and if she were to get caught in the crossfire, he had no doubt that he’d be broken beyond repair this time. “I can’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t risk losing you.” 

“But what if you get hurt? Bucky I - we can figure this out. We can do this together, we-” her voice was thick now, her throat tight with tears that hadn’t quite spilled onto her cheeks. He’d been stabbed once, right into his heart. It hadn’t been as painful as the way she looked at him now. He silenced her with his hands on her cheeks, the gloves making them seem even bigger against her face. 

“I will come back to you.” he said, and he didn’t know why he was making a promise he couldn’t keep. For the past seventy years of his life, he’d been wondering when he was going to die. Now that he was determined to live, it seemed his end was coming for him. But if he wanted to  _ try _ to live, he had to escape, had to leave her behind. It may not be the worst thing he’d been through, but it still hurt in a way he didn’t expect. 

“Please don’t leave me.” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling as she spoke. She pressed her lips together to stop the quivering, and to try and bite down on the sobs that were threatening to escape. God, she never should have let him leave. She should have just made him stay in bed. She was terrified, not for herself, but for him. If she wasn’t there to protect him, who would be? 

“I have to. I’m sorry.” he said, his own voice cracking with emotion. He could hear sounds outside the door - quiet, someone trying to be stealthy. He listened as they broke into his apartment next door. This wouldn’t be a police force, this had to be someone operating outside the law. But who would do that for him? “Someone’s in my apartment, I have to go. You stay behind the couch, and don’t come out no matter what you hear, okay?”

“No, Bucky, no-” Mika tried to convince him again, but he cut her off with a kiss. She grabbed the front of his jacket, getting him to kiss her for just a moment longer before he finally pried himself away. His heart hurt so much he thought he might be sick, but he had to stay strong. He had to keep it together long enough to escape. That meant taking out whoever was in his apartment, grabbing his panic bag, and running.

“I love you.” he said as he pulled away. He’d been sitting on the words for a long time now, but he was out of time. He may never see her again, and she needed to know. He had to tell her. She started to say something else, but he turned and left the apartment. He waited for a moment, a part of him hoping that she would follow him. But she listened to him, going behind the couch and curling into a ball, hoping he couldn’t hear her as she sobbed into her arms. Bucky eyed the open door to his apartment, his instincts kicking in as he silently moved into it. One person, he could take. He recognized the back of the man’s head, the shape of his uniform, the circle of the shield hanging from his arm. His brain buzzed as memories of a time long forgotten surged to the surface, but he couldn’t afford them the attention right now. He had a priority, and that was getting this man and anyone following him away from this apartment, away from Mika. 

“Understood.” the man said, and Bucky recognized the voice, even if it wasn’t directed at him. He must be communicating with someone outside of here, someone who would be giving him updates on the world outside. Did they already know he was here? Did they know he stopped at Mika’s apartment first? The clock was ticking. He needed to go. The man finally turned then, realizing he wasn’t alone in the apartment. Bucky kept himself very still, his instincts telling him he needed to prepare for a fight, but his mind knowing that if the fight came, it wouldn’t be from this man. He held his journal, and Bucky wondered how much of it he’d read. The man stood to his full height, trying to put on a face of confidence. The manner was so familiar, it gave Bucky a headache. “Do you know me?” he asked, and the question was so ridiculous given the turn in events that it took Bucky a second to remember he needed to respond out loud.

“You’re Steve.” he said, though it felt weird now to have the man from his past life here during his current one. He could still feel the ghost of friendly affection when he looked at him, but it seemed different. Something wasn’t right, though that was probably just the intense anxiety at the situation. This was taking too long, and Steve was only going to make it take longer. He couldn’t know how much he knew. He had to play dumb, so he could exit as quickly as possible. Too much knowledge led to too many questions. “I read about you in a museum.” 

“I know you’re nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be.” Steve started after some message in through his communications device. It was too faint for Bucky to make out, but he knew the gist of it. He put his journal on the island, and Bucky wanted to laugh. Of course he was nervous, though Steve couldn’t know that he wasn’t nervous about himself. People were coming to kill him (which he was still used to), but his girl was next door with nothing but a couch and a wall between her and the danger. That was his  _ plenty of reason _ . “But you’re lying.”

Oh, so maybe Steve still knew him a bit after all. Bucky hid the surprise from his face. They were taking too much goddamn  _ time. _ “I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.” he said, figuring if he changed the subject and cut right to the chase, that they would stop this awkward song and dance and let him escape. Now was not a time for the pleasantries he’d learned and grown accustomed to over the past two years. His heart rate was raising with every second that passed, every second bringing the danger towards Mika. 

“Well the people who think you did are coming here now.” Steve said sharply, as if he were trying to convince Bucky of something. Bucky couldn’t care less about what Steve wanted right now, he only cared about the people coming. They would have weapons, guns, things that would hurt the beautiful girl next door if he didn’t  _ leave _ . “And they’re not planning on taking you alive.”

That was a given. He’d done too much in his past to warrant a peaceful arrest. “That’s smart. Good strategy.” he deadpanned, not at all surprised at the warning. He could hear people on the lower floors of the apartment building, systematically working their way up. The concrete of his ceiling cracked as people walked across it. Very well...if he was going to die, he was going to make sure he was as far away from here as possible, so that Mika wouldn’t have to see it.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck.” Steve said. His name sounded different when he said it than when Mika said it. He wanted to laugh at the statement, but all he did was sigh, pulling the glove from his metal hand. If they wanted the Winter Soldier, they would get him. 

“It always ends in a fight.” he said. Stupid of him to think he could ever escape his past, escape his life. He pushed away all his memories of happiness with Mika, instead focusing on his training and his instincts. If he somehow survived, it would be because of that. Keeping Mika safe would be his priority, but he couldn’t linger on it, couldn’t let it distract him. Steve glanced nervously at the window, receiving another message from whoever was helping him on the outside. Likely a warning, a countdown. It was now or never.

“You pulled me from the river. Why?” Steve asked, as if that were important right now, as if that made a difference. What was Bucky supposed to say? That he’d been caught in the limbo between himself and the Soldier, and all he could recognize was Steve? That the memory of that day was so hazy that it felt like a dream? That he was so confused by everything going on that all he could think about was running, and yet he still couldn’t bear to leave him in the water?

“I don’t know.” he said. Any other explanation would take too long. He could hear the footsteps outside his door, meaning they were also outside Mika’s door. Escape was priority number one right now, leading them as far away from here as possible. If that ended in his death, so be it. As long as she was safe. 

“Yes you do.” Steve said, his voice sure. Another time, Bucky would have rolled his eyes. He did know. But they would have to discuss that another day, as their conversation was interrupted by a smoke bomb breaking through his window. Steve immediately hit it away with his shield, but another one came through a second later, this one a flash grenade, and well beyond his reach. It landed in front of Bucky, and with no hesitation he kicked it at the other man, Steve slamming his shield over it to negate its explosion. He looked vaguely annoyed, but Bucky couldn’t be worried about it right now. All his focus needed to be on getting away. He picked up his mattress, blocking the next flash grenade that came through the window. A battering ram hit his door, but didn’t bust it open all the way. How that flimsy door managed to hold he would never know, but regardless, he turned and threw his little table into the entryway, blockading their advancement. 

Two men swung into his apartment, one through each window. He immediately swung at the man nearest to him, his metal arm wrapped around his own torso to protect his vital organs from the inevitable bullets that would soon be heading his way. The second man was standing on his rug; how convenient. He barely registered the gunshots as he pulled it from underneath his feet, sending him careening onto his back. The first man had recovered from the punch, but was still attached to his zip line. That was unfortunate, as Bucky was able to use the extra buoyancy to throw him across the apartment and into the opposite wall. He cursed himself; that was the wall that bordered Mika’s apartment, and he was lucky the man hadn’t gone through it. 

A third man punched through his balcony door, engaging with Steve. He kicked him hard in the chest, sending him into the concrete wall and knocking him out cold. Bucky did the calculations in his head; he had just enough time now to escape. This was good, he’d avoided most of the gunfire and was able to keep them away from the apartment next door. He took a step towards the balcony, towards freedom, but was stopped by Steve’s hand on his arm.

“Buck, stop! You’re gonna kill someone.” he exclaimed. Did he think he was going after the ones chasing him? Hell no. He wasn’t looking for a fight, he needed to get away, and as much as part of him wanted to reclaim his friendship with Steve, it was not a priority. He grabbed Steve roughly, using his weight against him and slamming him into the floor. He pulled back his metal arm, sending it into the floor right next to his head. There was no time to gently pry up the laminate now. 

“I’m not gonna kill anyone.” he murmured, grabbing his backpack from the space beneath the floor and pulling it out. He couldn’t blame Steve for thinking that, considering his occupation for the past seven decades, though he thought the changes in him would be relatively evident. But he would ruminate on that later. He stood up, and for a second Steve looked frightened that he was going to hurt him. Instead, he just chucked the backpack from the open window, hearing it as it hit the roof of the shorter building across the street. He would need the advantage of altitude for this escape. 

Another soldier climbed through the window, opening fire on him. Bucky covered his face with the metal arm, letting the bullets ricochet uselessly off of it. Steve grabbed him, pulling him behind the protection of the shield. But the shield was big, and Steve’s grip tight. Both were more of a hinderance right now, so Bucky felt no shame in pushing away his hand. Another soldier appeared in the window, aiming his gun at them. Bucky picked up Steve this time, throwing the other man shield first at the intruder. That one he felt a  _ little _ bad about. 

The other soldier’s bullets were easily thwarted by his metal hand, and his tactical helmet did nothing to protect him from a massive concussion as Bucky slammed his head through the countertop. The man cried out in pain, but he barely heard it. He was busy with the man whose head poked through the barely open door, the wimpy table bending under the strength of the soldiers outside. He picked up one of the cinder blocks stacked in the corner, slinging it through the crack in the door and hitting the man straight in the face. Three shotgun shots rang from the hallway as they punched out the hinges of his door. Those shots were  _ way _ too close to Mika, and if any stray bullets found their way too her, then he would easily and gladly break the promise he made to Steve moments before. 

The soldiers outside hesitated, which was their biggest mistake. He kicked the door out, taking a few of them down in the process. Why would they line up like that? Idiots. He stepped out into the hallway, acutely aware of how close Mika’s door was and exactly how close these soldiers were to her.

_ Lead them away _ . That was his only thought.  _ Get them away from Mika _ . 

He flipped the first one, slamming him into the ground hard enough to knock the wind from him and paralyze him momentarily with the shock. The skylight broke as another soldier lined in, machine gun trained on him and bullets firing wildly. Stupid. Irresponsible. If even  _ one _ of those bullets made it into the apartment next door…

The shots were easily blocked, and the man was dumb enough to be within arm’s reach. Bucky grabbed him by the gun, sending him flying into the wall. Hopefully that would be enough to knock him unconscious. He grabbed the battering ram with his metal arm, slamming it first into a soldier in front of him and then into one on the stairs. He eyed the stairwell, counting the soldiers as they lined up. They had the advantage of numbers, but he had the advantage of strength, tactical knowledge, and the courage of a man trying to protect his girl. And he would win every time, or die trying. 

The unconscious man on the rope made an easy swing to get to the other side, Bucky’s own body hitting one of the soldiers’. He grabbed the next one, sending a leg out to kick the one behind him down the stairs. The one in his arms he threw down the flight, aiming to get him away from the door at the top. No matter what, he had to keep pushing them down, keep pushing them away. They could  _ not _ reach the top floor. 

Punch, punch, parry, kick. He took down one, two, three more soldiers this way. He heard someone land behind him, but the footsteps were familiar.  _ Nice of you to join me _ . That’s what he would have said to Steve another time, if there weren’t so much at stake. Right now, all he cared about was that Steve was taking down the soldiers behind him that were trying to get up. That was helpful, though unnecessary. And what was extra unnecessary was him catching one of the men that he threw over the railing, stopping his decent roughly.

“Come on, man.” Steve said gruffly, and Bucky didn’t bother explaining that given his trajectory he would have landed on the floor two stories down and likely survived. Instead, his answer was simply driving his elbow into the face of the man behind him. That guy was now  _ for sure _ unconscious. 

This was taking too long. He needed to get further down the staircase, and he needed to get there  _ fast _ . He used the strength of his left arm to pull away the railing, his body weight enough to bend it as he swung a couple floors down. His feet slammed into the chest of another man, their combined momentum enough to break through the door of the empty apartment four floors down. The quick descent would also get the soldiers now above him to change their direction. Down the stairs. Away from the top floor. Away from Mika. 

Punch, punch, throw, and another soldier was incapacitated. God, they kept coming like fucking ants or flies or whatever. His panic was in his throat now; the longer he stayed in the building, the higher the likelihood that Mika would be found and injured. He looked up as Steve threw his shield into the wall, knocking out a couple guys that were trying to get up. He couldn’t decipher the expression on his face, but he knew he wasn’t happy. Oh well. Apparently no one got to be happy today.

Without a second thought, Bucky lept over the railing, counting the floors as they passed before grabbing the appropriate railing with his left hand. He let out a cry of pain as the prosthetic barely held on to his chest, but he would deal with that later. Pain was fine. Pain meant he was alive. He climbed over the bannister, the hallway now clear of soldiers. He could hear them as they started running down the stairs towards him, but they were too late. He’d made his plan, and now he could execute it. 

With purposeful steps, he walked towards the empty apartment on the street side, paying no mind to the door to the apartment or the balcony. One big leap, and he was soaring across to the other building. It was a little higher than he anticipated, pain shooting through his legs as he landed as softly as he could before rolling through it. His momentum kept him rolling, further than he intended, but just far enough to get him to his backpack. He used the force to roll to his feet, picking up the bag and breaking into a run. Though he was out of the building, he wasn’t safe yet. 

But at least Mika was. 


	37. Make or Break

Bucky didn’t know what the  _ hell _ had just jumped in front of him, but there was no way it was a fucking human. 

And of course this weird not-human cat guy had to kick him in the back of the head, which hurt like a bitch and really pissed him off. He thought he was free, in the clear to run as far away as he could and maybe,  _ maybe _ , return to Mika someday. But no, this asshole had to interrupt his escape. The strength of his kick was surprising to say the least (though he tried not to think too hard about it), but his tactical suit was nothing like Bucky had ever seen. It definitely wasn’t Hydra issued, and it didn’t look like something from S.H.I.E.L.D. Claws extended from his fingertips as he stood in front of him in a challenge position, and Bucky had a brief memory of someone else from his past with claws. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered right now was that this guy was in his way. Fine, if everyone wanted a fight today, then he would give them a fight.

The cat man sent his leg out in a kick; the first one was easy to block, but the second one, to his chest, was quick and surprising. Bucky wasn’t used to fighting people as quick as he was, and it wasn’t something he wanted to  _ get _ used to. He regained his footing and tried to punch him across the face, but cat man apparently also came with cat-like reflexes and dodged it easily. He also easily blocked Bucky’s next two calculated swings at him. With an acrobatic flip that seemed to defy the laws of nature, the cat man slammed a foot across Bucky’s face, and followed it up by driving his knee into his stomach. Jesus, this guy could move, and move  _ fast _ . 

Bucky couldn’t stop the groan from escaping him as his back hit the concrete wall, but he had no time to feel sorry for himself, as cat man’s claws were coming straight for him. He shoved himself to the side, watching as the claws easily sunk into the concrete right where his head had previously smacked against it. Time to  _ go _ . 

He wasn’t even able to stand before the man swung his claws out at him, his speed incredible and his accuracy deadly; they made a loud noise as they once again gouged the concrete wall. Bucky had no doubt that if he had his training alone and had not been enhanced by the scientists, he would not survive this fight. Granted, he didn’t know  _ why _ they were having this fight, but that was a question for another time. The cat man cut to the right, using the wall to change his direction swiftly, and Bucky was barely able to put his metal arm up over his face before the claws clashed against it, the force behind them so powerful that he had to use his entire body to stay upright. He still had yet to get completely on his feet, the cat man’s attacks relentless and fast. Who the hell was this guy, and why the hell was he here?

The man leapt, tackling Bucky to the ground and forcing half the air from his lungs. He didn’t know why he was surprised the guy landed on his feet, but he afforded the thought for a split second before the claws once again flashed in the sunlight over him. There was a rusted piece of metal next to him, and Bucky grabbed it in an effort to stop the attack. The claws sunk easily into it, slicing through it like a hot knife through butter. The pieces were ripped from his fingers and thrown aside, leaving Bucky with nothing but his hands to stop all ten claws from ripping into his head. Up close, they were even sharper than he imagined, the metal shining in the same way his arm did in the sunlight. 

Bucky didn’t know how they didn’t notice the helicopter coming their direction, but it commanded their attention as it came into view and started showering them with bullets. Cat man turned to look at it, the large caliber rounds ricocheting uselessly off his black suit. What the  _ hell  _ was this guy?! And just when Bucky thought he was used to the idea of a man-animal hybrid, another man with wings soared into the picture, tucking into a ball before slamming his legs into the chopper and knocking it into a spiral. The wings sprouted again as he soared away beneath the edge of the wall. So now he had to deal with cat man and bird man? What the  _ fuck _ was going on?! 

The distraction was just enough for Bucky to bring a leg up and send it into the cat man’s chest, using enough force to actually send him flying a few feet away. Of course, he rolled onto his feet in a most annoying fashion, but he didn’t care. All he needed to get away was a few seconds, and he was finally able to give himself that. He sprung to his feet, pulling on his panic bag and taking off at a dead sprint towards the edge of the building. He may not be able to beat this guy in a fight, but he might be able to take him in a foot race. Bucky had always been speedy, and now with his enhancements, he was nigh uncatchable. Well, he had been at least. Out of all the things Hydra did to him, all the gruelling and horrible missions he’d been on, this was one of the greatest tests of his physiology. 

He vaulted over the wall, dropping down to a ledge below and landing with a grace that might be surprising for a man of his size. The Soldier never knew how to land softly, didn’t care if he fractured his ankles. But the Man cared, because he had a lot of running left to do today. He looked up, trying to spot his adversary and making quick calculations of the best, fastest escape route. Of course, the man used his claws to slide down the concrete wall, fast approaching Bucky’s position. With the man’s speed, agility, and balance, the narrow concrete shelf would not be the ideal place to engage him. No, Bucky needed space, and distractions. So, down it was. He didn’t even pause to think as he stepped off the concrete, eyeing the area below and bracing himself for impact. 

Bucky landed a split second before the other man, and took off running towards the city center. He knew these streets, probably knew them better than anyone else in the city, and he would have to use the knowledge of the landscape if he was going to lose this guy, though he wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had some weird super senses that would enable him to track him down. He heard a crash behind them that sounded like metal on concrete, but he did not stop running. If Steve was determined to be included in this mess, so be it. But right now, Bucky’s only priority was getting as far away as possible to protect Mika. 

The helicopter returned, once again raining shots down on them. That was fine, Bucky had already mapped out seventeen alternate routes he could take for escape. He cut to the left, leaping over a wall and aiming for the dotted lines between car lanes below. His aim was slightly off, but luckily the man in the van had good enough reflexes to swerve around him. The street was busy enough to be congested, but just free enough for the traffic to be moving quickly. Perfect. He took off again, hoping this would be enough to slow down his enemy, but somehow knowing that it would not.

He saw cat man land on the street behind him, and caught a glimpse of Steve as he joined the fray. God, he was just as stubborn as he was in 1943, the dumbass. But he would have to protect himself this time, cause Bucky had a different mission. He used his speed in a way he hadn’t in a long time, sprinting alongside cars and passing them, his senses just aware enough of the people behind him to keep track of how close they were. Cat man obviously had enhancements too, ones that might rival or surpass his own. He thought of the Soldier, whose stamina was only limited by his physiology, who would go until his body literally could not take another step. What if that’s what this guy had too? He needed to come up with a better, more sustainable plan. 

That would have to wait, of course. A car swerved in front of him, and he quickly tried to slow his speed. He could not keep running if he knocked himself unconscious slamming into it. But then the car moved and Bucky saw the fleet of police cars pull up in front of him, their headlights trained on him. He could feel the rubber of his shoes leaving marks on the pavement as he skidded to a near stop, changing his direction and jumping over the divider so he could continue his escape on the opposite side of the road. It was a little more difficult now that the cars were driving against him rather than with him, but he could always vault over them if he needed to. The cars were not his main concern. 

Just as he reached the sunlight again, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle reached his ears. Ah, yes. This would do  _ perfectly _ . He skidded to a stop again, feeling remorse for a fraction of a second before grabbing the handlebar with his metal hand and shoving the driver off with the other. Part of him wanted to apologize, but he had no time for that. The motorcycle tried to fly by him, but the plates of the metal arm clicked into place, pulling it in a wide arc back to his side. The wheels were still spinning as he straddled it, kicking it into gear and punching the throttle. Nearly full gas tank, wide tires that could handle multiple terrains. He couldn’t ask for a better getaway vehicle, to be honest. 

Of course, it didn’t help that Steve just  _ wouldn’t stop following him _ . God dammit. The balance of the car speeding behind him was off, and Bucky had a sneaking suspicion that Steve was not alone. Over the honking and the motors he could hear the wind cutting; bird man must be back in the mix again too. If he wasn’t so focused on his escape, Bucky probably would have been very annoyed. He just wanted to live a quiet life, hiding in his little corner of the world with his job and his girl. But no, some asshole had to frame him for a bombing and now Captain America and his animal army were trying to fuck everything up. 

He heard someone push off the car, and looked up to see cat man soaring towards him. Bucky caught him easily by the throat, grateful for the strength of the metal arm to keep the motorcycle going straight. The man made a noise as he grabbed him; ah, so the suit could protect him from bullets, but not from strangulation? Interesting. The man kicked off the wall, cartwheeling over the bike and trying to bring it down. Bucky let him go to grab the handle, dropping his left arm to keep the motorcycle from tipping over completely. Sparks flew as the metal of his hand skated over the concrete, and he hoped they were flying into the face of the man trying to slow his departure. A quick glance behind him told him that was not the case, as the guy was still holding onto the bike. No worries, a swift kick to the chest was enough to loose his hold and send him careening back into the traffic behind them. He could still hear the car in pursuit, hear the man with the wings as he followed as well. He’d been avoiding doing anything drastic to impede their progress, but drastic times called for drastic measures. He reached into his bag and pulled out one of the small, sticky grenades, throwing it up onto the overpass as he went under it. He may not be responsible for the bombing in Vienna, but he was definitely responsible for this one.

He didn’t see the explosion, but he heard it, as well as the accompanying sound of concrete breaking and rubble collapsing onto the street. He thought he’d made it, thought he was home free, but then a puncture sound echoed behind him and the motorcycle lurched to the side, too fast for him to catch it this time. God  _ dammit _ . He watched as the ruined bike slid away, the shiny metal coming in and out of vision as he rolled over the road. He could hear someone else rolling behind him, and this time his annoyance did fire through him. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, because as soon as he stopped rolling, the man was standing over him, claws still gleaming in the sun. Bucky readied himself to catch his wrists again, but was interrupted by a blue Steve shaped blur tackling the man in black. He was able to stand then, stand and see the fleet of police cars screaming in front of him, to the side of him, behind him. Steve was to his left, holding his hand out in front of Bucky as if that would deter him, and the cat man in front of them. His mind began calculating his next escape route, trying to find any plan that didn’t involve killing everybody there. He was just considering throwing Steve again when the news chopper floated into view above them, and ultimately he knew then that he would not be getting out of this.

If this was being broadcasted, there was no way for him to hide. If the whole world could see this, then he couldn’t enact any of his plans. He was not going to kill anyone to escape, not going to give in to everyone’s expectations of him. Well, except for Mika. Mika thought him a good man; no, he couldn’t let her see him at his worst, or let her see him get killed. If there was any chance she was watching this, he couldn’t just slaughter everyone and escape, or die in the attempt. Even if it meant being locked away forever for his crimes (which, to be fair, he deserved), he was going to present himself as the man she believed him to be. 

A heavy metal suit landed in front of them, his hands glowing and emitting a high pitched whine that told of the power they held. One hand was towards Bucky, the other towards the cat man. A machine gun popped out of its shoulder, and trained itself on Steve. Bucky was just wondering if there was a person inside of it, or if it was just a robot, when a very human sounding voice said, “Stand down. Now.” There was too much inflection for it to be automated. Great,  _ another _ super human. Why not.

Steve was still holding his hand out, silently telling Bucky to stay, as if he had any other option at this point. He didn’t understand that the probability of escaping alive at this point was less than one percent. He always was so goddamn optimistic. Bucky felt his heart sink into his shoes as Steve put his hand down, taking the shield and locking it into place on his back. Yea, maybe Mika wasn’t going to see him kill people, or watch as they shot him down, but she was still going to see them arrest him, see as they cuffed him like the criminal he was and lead him away to face his past. 

“Congratulations, Cap. You’re a criminal.” the metal guy spoke again. If Bucky weren’t feeling so trapped and defeated, he might have laughed. Steve always was bordering on a criminal, as long as the shady activities would lead to an outcome for the greater good. After all the shit they pulled during the War...Bucky realized these people didn’t understand them at all. Steve’s heart was always in the right place, but even Robin Hood was technically lawbreaker. 

Bucky let the policeman come up to him, didn’t say a word or change his expression as he roughly grabbed his shoulder. He wasn’t offended as he kicked the back of his legs, forcing him to his knees, and then shoving him so he was face down on the street. He was stupid to hope this day wouldn’t eventually come, but he found his only regret was not spending more time with the girl next door.

The guy in the cat suit finally retracted the claws and pulled off his helmet. Steve looked shocked at the reveal, and the man in the metal suit referred to him as, “Your Highness.” Bucky had no idea who he was, and he didn’t care. That man was not his problem. Steve was not his problem. The bird man was not his problem. The problem was that he thought he would ever be able to truly escape the prison he’d been in for nearly his entire life.  _ It was good while it lasted _ , he told himself, though all the optimism and positivity he’d been working to build was slipping out of him like sand in an hourglass, leaving nothing behind but an empty ache in the pit of his stomach. 

His wrists were cuffed, a hundred guns trained on his head. Multiple men joined the first one, holding him tightly and dragging him to a van. They put more cuffs on him, attaching him to the walls of the car and putting more men than necessary in there with him, every muzzle of their assault rifles pointed his direction. He didn’t bother telling them that he could easily rip out of the handcuffs, or that with so many weapons in such close quarters they were more likely to injure each other than him if they were to open fire. He would go quietly, and leave his girl behind forever. He knew his time was up, but he had one last happy thought that he could hold on to: at least Mika was safe. 

Mika, for her part, thought she did very well to only cry for a couple minutes after Bucky left. She’d never been great at following directions, and every fiber of her being was telling her to go out into the hallway, to grab him and bring him back inside and keep him safe. Whatever was going on, they could figure it out. Together.

Of course, then she heard the stampede of boots coming up the stairs, and she paused from crawling out behind the couch and decided maybe, just maybe, she should heed Bucky’s words. She let out a scream as she heard the first shots next door, slapping her hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She squeezed her eyes shut, flinching every time she heard a slam or a gunshot. She’d never been a particularly religious person, but she found herself suddenly praying very hard that Bucky would be alright, that whoever was getting hit or shot, it wasn’t him. A loud thump sounded against her wall, the force of it enough to knock one of her pictures from its perch and shatter the glass front of it. More shots rang out, this time outside in the hallway, and quickly the sounds of the fight moved from the apartment next door to right outside. She heard the sound of bodies being hit, the groans of the men echoing through the slim crack beneath her door. None of them sounded familiar, and there was no sign of Bucky being the one taken down. She could hear the men speaking German, and cursed herself for never learning the language. She stayed behind the couch, though it killed her to do so, because she realized that Bucky was right: she had no place in this fight. If he was going to escape, then he couldn’t be distracted by her.

The fight seemed to last forever, but at the same time the silence rang out sooner than she expected. She waited on breath, then two, before starting to crawl out from behind the couch again. She carefully stood up, grateful for her thick winter socks as she silently crept to the door and looked out the peephole. Outside, what seemed like dozens of men in heavy body armor were slowly regaining consciousness and trying to pull themselves up. She knew she should stay inside, but she couldn’t wait anymore, forgetting that she was wearing nothing but Bucky’s flannel and stepping out into the hallway. She ran to the railing and looked over the edge, but there was no sign of him anywhere. All she could see was men trying to recover from the force of nature that had hit them. She knew, technically, she was supposed to side with the police, but she found herself happy that he at least made it out of the building alright.

One of the men next to her said something to her in German, kicking her fight or flight into overdrive again. Thanks to her training with Bucky, her first instinct was to send a knee to his head. Luckily, she was able to push that down, and instead retreated to her apartment and slammed the door behind her, locking it as if that would do anything to stop the guys with assault rifles. She picked up her phone to call Bucky, but knew it was too soon. He was on the run now, and she should probably wait for him to contact her. She wished she could check on him, and wracked her brain trying to figure out how she could do that. The news? Surely something this big would be a breaking bulletin. She pulled up her laptop, finding a livestream of the local news channel. A pretty woman in a red dress was talking about some African nation that lost its king, and while the story was probably very sad, Mika couldn’t find it in herself to care. She held her breath, waiting for any mention of Bucky, or any footage of him. Just when she thought they were clear, the woman in red was interrupted by a man in a helicopter, and Mika watched in horror as the camera panned to the street. There stood Bucky, with Captain America beside him, as well as a couple people she didn’t recognize. One was in a suit that looked almost like Iron Man, but she knew that wasn’t him. Iron Man wore red, and this guy was in gunmetal grey. The other seemed to have some sort of backpack and goggles on, and she wondered what was in the pack that made him so dangerous. She covered her mouth with her hands as they roughly shoved Bucky to the ground, tears leaking out as they practically chained him up and threw him into a van. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, has been apprehended by a task force out of Germany. His accomplices, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, were also taken into custody, along with the former prince, now king, of Wakanda, T’Challa, son of T’Chaka. Barnes will be taken back to Berlin, where they will undergo investigation involving the recent bombing of the UN Summit...” the man was telling her what was going on, but Mika had gone numb. They’d caught him. They’d actually caught him, and were going to arrest him for something he didn’t do. She knew how it looked, knew what the world saw: a rogue assassin, back in action. But that wasn’t who he was, and she needed the world to see it. 

Her mind slowed for a second as she tried to figure out what to do next. Bucky was in custody, with no way to contact her. They were taking him away, likely to be imprisoned. But they couldn’t just straight imprison him, right? They had to find more evidence than the grainy parking garage video that the news was showing now. He didn’t even own a jacket like that, hadn’t even been in Vienna the night before. He’d been here, with her. 

With renewed determination, Mika opened a new tab on her laptop, typing in the address for the airline she always used to go visit Nicoletta. She forced herself to carefully read the times of the flights in front of her, knowing that if she rushed too much and messed up that it could be detrimental to Bucky’s case. She had to get there in a timely manner, tell them that he had an alibi, that she didn’t know who was in the video but it sure as hell wasn’t her Bucky. 

Once she purchased the tickets (not caring that they were twice as expensive as usual due to the late timing), she slammed her laptop shut and walked with a purpose back into the bedroom. She slipped on a bra underneath the flannel and found the first pair of leggings nearby, not caring if they were clean or dirty. She grabbed the carry on weekend bag from the top of her closet and just grabbed a few things from every drawer of her dresser, figuring if she really needed she could buy clothes there. She dialed her sister’s number, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she continued to pack.

“Alo, dear sister!” Nicoletta answered brightly, obviously completely unaware of everything that was going on.

“Have you seen the news?” Mika asked, not even ashamed of how her voice wavered with panic. She needed shoes. Where were her shoes?

“No, I haven’t.” Nicoletta answered, her voice immediately lowered with concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s a long story - actually, I don’t know most of it myself.” Mika said as her mind ran in circles looking for an explanation. She couldn’t split her attention very well right now to give a full answer. And where in the hell were her shoes? “But the short of it is, they’ve arrested Bucky and are bringing him to Berlin for questioning.”

“What?! What are the charges?!” Nicoletta exclaimed, her tone jumping a full octave in her surprise. Mika breathed a sigh of relief, glad that her sister was already on their side. Perhaps they could call her as a character witness, if needed. 

“They’re claiming he bombed the UN.” Mika said, finally giving up on finding her shoes and pulling on a pair of her boots instead. Keys, she needed keys. Where the hell were her keys?!

“He would never!” she squeaked, appalled on his behalf. 

“I know, I know he wouldn’t. But listen, I’m coming to Germany, my flight leaves in an hour and a half-” Mika was interrupted by a knock at her door. She grew silent, wondering who would be calling on her right now. Was it the police, looking for Bucky? Or worse, were they coming to take her in for questioning as well? Perhaps that would be better, then she could set the story straight without having to put Bucky through traveling that far away from home. “Nicoletta, I’ll have to call you back.”

“No, Mika, wait-!” Nicoletta tried to keep her on the line, but Mika hung up. Luckily the leather soles of her boots were nearly silent as she slid them across the laminate flooring, though she did jump as whoever was there knocked again. She looked through the peephole, seeing the face of a young man. She recognized him, but couldn’t quite place him. All she knew was that he was likely not affiliated with the police.

“Hi, I’m sorry, this isn’t a good time.” she said, pulling the door open. The young man smiled sheepishly, and looked rather relieved for someone she didn’t know.

“Yes, I know.” he said cryptically, which immediately put Mika on edge. Apparently her change in demeanor was more obvious than she thought, because he immediately put his hands up in a gesture of peace. He shifted his weight, as if he were struggling standing on one of his legs for too long. “Sorry, Jones called me about an hour ago. Didn’t give me any details, just asked me to come make sure you were alright.”

_ Jones _ . “Oh, right, you used to work with him.” Mika said, finally remembering that she’d met the young man before. But her mind was not here in this conversation, it was on the clock as it counted down to her flight time. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t remember your name. But um, yes, I’m okay.”

“Is Jones?” he asked, and she could see genuine worry on his face. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times, unsure how to answer. So this kid didn’t know anything either. Perhaps the story was not as pervasive as she feared. 

“I don’t know.” she finally said, figuring the truth was better than anything else. “I’m sorry, I really appreciate you stopping by, but like I said, I’m okay and now is a really bad time-”   


“How can I help?” he asked, limping a bit closer. Mika started to say that he couldn’t, that really she just needed to get to Germany so she could help Bucky, but then she paused.

“Did you drive here?” she asked, and she could tell the question confused him. 

“Uh, yes. I did.” he answered, not seeing where she was going with this. She nodded, running back into her apartment to grab her overnight bag, laptop, and keys.

“Good. Then you can drive me to the airport.” she replied, walking by him and starting down the stairs without a second glance. Normally she would try not to sound so bossy, but now was not the time for her to worry about that. All she could worry about was getting to Bucky.

He’d come to her rescue more than once, and now it was her turn.


	38. Army of One

Mika had never spent so long in a security line in her life.

Then again, perhaps it was a perfectly normal time to spend waiting to get through, but her anxiety made her feel like it was practically moving in reverse. She tried not to be that obnoxious person in line sighing dramatically and tapping her foot, but she was physically unable of keeping still. A trail of nail polish chips followed her like breadcrumbs, her fingertips almost sore from how aggressively she was picking at it. If Bucky were with her, he’d hold her hand in his to still the nervous movements. But of course, Bucky wasn’t here, that was the point; he was on his way to Berlin, alone, arrested for a crime he didn’t commit. 

Halfway through the line, a welcome distraction came in the form of her phone ringing, the vibrations borderline painful because of how fried her senses were. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this scared - probably the time Bucky almost died on her kitchen floor. Elena’s name flashed across the screen, and she was so surprised that she hesitated for a moment. She had an inkling why she was calling, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to have this conversation. If anyone was going to try and talk her out of this, it was her best friend. The call went to voicemail, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The air wasn’t even completely out of her lungs before her phone started buzzing again. It seemed Elena was not taking no for an answer.

“Hey.” she answered, not bothering with pretenses. Elena was never one for bullshit.

“Are you okay?” she asked immediately, her voice cracking with concern. “The news said there was a shootout at the apartment, that Bucky-”

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” she interrupted. She was afraid of the questions that Elena was going to ask, because she knew that there was no way she could lie to her. She was silent for a long time, and Mika braced herself.

“Is it true? What they said about him?” she finally asked, her tone hushed as if she didn’t mean to actually let it come out. Mika knew exactly to what she was alluding, but decided to play dumb instead.

“That he bombed the UN? No, not at all. He’s been at my place the past three nights.” she replied. She still couldn’t believe that this was happening. The video from the news kept replaying in her head: the chase down the road, the fight, the guns all pointed at him. If she weren’t so angry that they were accusing him of something he didn’t do, she might have cried. She’d held her breath during the videos of the arrest as she waited for them to open fire on the innocent man. Instead, they’d just thrown him in a van like an animal, and were probably locking him up in a cage. Perhaps she was being dramatic, but she was  _ pissed _ . 

“Did you know? About…” Elena couldn’t finish the question, and Mika couldn’t tell if it was because she already knew the answer, or didn’t want to know. She sighed, the silence heavy between them as she tried to figure out how to answer.

“Yes.” she finally conceded, not bothering to elaborate. She did know about his past as the Winter Soldier, but she also knew that that was not  _ him _ . Perhaps the Winter Soldier was a cold assassin, one that had skills beyond compare and killed without hesitation. But Bucky? Bucky was kind, and gentle, and fiercely protective. The Winter Soldier was heartless, uncaring. Bucky knew how she took her coffee and kissed her like she was made of glass. 

“Before or after?” she persisted, and Mika knew that she was hoping that this news was a surprise to her as well. She clenched her eyes shut for a second, rubbing her forehead and preparing herself for the reaction she was going to have to deal with. “Mika? Did you know before or after?”

“Before. I knew before we got together.” she admitted. How could she make Elena see that his past didn’t define who he was? How could she explain that he was a victim, that he’d been held prisoner and forced to do these things? She didn’t see the way his face fell when he got stuck in a memory, didn’t know the way his hands gripped her sheets when he was trapped in a nightmare. 

“Mika!” she admonished. Over the loudspeakers, a woman with a clear and cheery voice announced the final boarding call for a flight to London. “Mika, where are you?”

“...At the airport.” she said, following the line as she finally turned around the final bend. The agents checking tickets and passports were no longer a far away goal; they were so close she could see the beads of sweat on the forehead of the overweight man in the last window. 

“Mika,  _ no. _ This is a horrible idea.” Elena said sharply, and Mika winced. She gave in to her tendency to ramble defensively, if only to try and protect Bucky’s honor.

“Elena, come on. You know him, you know he wouldn’t do something like this.” she rambled, feeling like her heart was in her throat. “And besides that, he was with me the whole time. There was no way he could have gone to Vienna and planted that thing. I have to go and tell them that they’re wrong.”

“You can’t tell the UN that they’re wrong!” she said, and while Mika knew she was just trying to be a good friend, she couldn’t help but bristle.

“Maybe not normally, but I can for this. He’s there, alone, with no one to help him, no one to speak for him. I can’t just let them arrest him for something he didn’t do! I’ve talked police out of things before, I’ll just do it again.” she said. She knew this wasn’t her best idea, but it was the only one she had, and it was the one she was going to go with. 

“This isn’t talking a beat cop out of giving us public intoxications! This is the fucking UN! It’s different!” Elena argued, and Mika rolled her eyes even though she couldn’t see it.

“You’re right, it is different. Because you and I  _ were _ publicly intoxicated, but Bucky did not do what they’re accusing.” she said. She was next in line now, finally. “I have to go. I’m almost through security.”

“Mika, I don’t like this.” Elena said, her anger reducing down to her concern.

“I know. I’ll text you when I land.” Mika replied. Her mother always said her stubbornness would get her into trouble, and perhaps this was finally the day. Oh well, if she was going to get into trouble, she would do it trying to help someone she loved.

“Be careful.” Elena said, and she might have wanted to add something else, but Mika hung up before the could say anything more. It was her turn.

She had to sprint across the airport to make it to her gate before it closed, her cheeks red and her breath short as she skidded to a stop in front of the attendant. The man looked alarmed at her appearance, but she couldn’t be bothered to care, instead just holding out her ticket. He scanned it, the confused look never leaving his face as she took it back and walked with a purpose towards the door of the plane. Everyone on the plane was boarded and seated, and gave her vaguely annoyed looks as she tried to hurry down the aisle without hitting anyone in the head with her bag. Once she was finally settled in her seat, the door closed and the captain came over the speaker, giving his introductions and information as the plane started to taxi. Finally, she was on her way. 

Once the plane was at a cruising altitude, she pulled out her laptop and phone. The news didn’t say exactly where the German task force was taking Bucky, and she doubted that they would tell her if she called and asked, even if she said she had vital information pertaining to his arrest. Luckily, she’d completely forgotten to figure out how to remove the location software she’d accidentally added to his phone, and she couldn’t help but feel like for once her scattered mind actually came in handy. She’d have to do a little bit of something on her phone so that she wouldn’t have to use her computer to find him, which was going to be her real issue. She eyed the “Find My Friends” app, and wondered if she was smart enough to hack the programming a bit during the two hour plane ride. 

Turns out, she was  _ just _ creative enough to make the program work the way she wanted it to, meaning she would be able to find Bucky’s phone without the data transmitting beyond her device. She was finishing the final touches with her laptop cradled in her arms while the flight attendant chastised her angrily during their descent, but all that mattered was that she figured it out. Once the wheels hit the tarmac, she turned her data back on (international charges be damned) and opened the app, holding her breath and watching the little wheel turn. It took an extra long time to load, which had her worried, but as they pulled into the gate, it finally opened, and it showed a little blue dot where she sat at the airport, and a little green dot across town. Hopefully, that’s where Bucky was. 

Nicoletta was waiting outside for her, leaning against her little blue Volkswagen with her arms crossed and her foot tapping against the sidewalk. She perked up as Mika practically flew out of the front doors, pushing off the car and enveloping her sister in a tight hug. Mika held her just as firmly, the supportive touch just enough to make her want to break down and cry. But Nicoletta didn’t allow that, pulling back and putting her hands on Mika’s cheeks.

“You’re alright.” she said, and Mika nodded in agreement. “Have you had any updates? Have you been able to talk to him?”

“No, no I just know he’s here. Well, his phone is here at least. I just can’t believe…” Again, tears pricked at the back of her eyes, and her sentence dropped as she tried to keep her emotions from spilling out. Nicoletta took charge then, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her towards the car. 

“It’s okay, we’re going to go there and get them all sorted out and everything is going to be fine.” she said as they climbed into the car, Mika keeping an eye on her phone to see if the little green dot was moving. So far, it seemed to be stationary. 

“Thank you, Nicoletta.” Mika whispered, taking her sister’s hand and holding it. After the conversation with Elena (who, to be fair, had a point), she needed someone in her corner. Nicoletta squeezed her fingers as she pulled onto the road.

“Of course. Now, where are we going?” she asked, navigating the traffic and waiting for Mika to answer. She hesitated; it was a bad enough idea for her to go running headlong into...wherever Bucky was. She couldn’t drag her baby sister into it, couldn’t risk her getting any more involved than she needed to. It was, perhaps, the most rational thought she’d had since the whole thing started.

“We’re going to your house. I don’t want you to get in trouble too.” she said, and her sister looked at her affronted for a moment before turning her gaze back to the road.

“You are absolutely not leaving me behind.” she said, her hands turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. Her sister was little, but she doubled in size when she was angry.

“I’m not leaving you behind. I’m just trying to protect you.” Mika replied. Nicoletta opened her mouth to answer, but she cut her off. “It has come to my attention that this is apparently not a good idea, so I won’t have you getting into trouble if things go south.”

“If it’s such a bad idea, then why are you doing it?” she asked, and while Mika wanted to give the cliche  _ because I love him _ , she held her tongue, instead answering with,

“Because he would do it for me.” she said. It was also the truth; she had no doubt that if the situations were reversed, Bucky would move heaven and earth to help her. And she was not going to leave him out to dry when he needed her most. Nicoletta looked at her from the corner of her eye before sighing, taking a turn at a light.

“Fine. But you keep me updated, and you come  _ straight here _ when he’s walking free, alright?” she said sternly, taking a road out of the city, past the suburbs, and into the country. Apparently she’d moved since Mika’s last visit, giving up her downtown apartment for a cottage outside the city limits. She pulled to the front door, leaving the car running as they got out. She embraced her sister once more before reminding her of her promise, staying in front of the house as Mika got in on the driver’s side and started making her way to her little green dot. She didn’t know what was going to happen once she got there, but all that mattered was getting to Bucky.

Bucky thought the cage was overkill, at first. 

He was coming quietly, obeying orders, and very clearly  _ not _ in Winter Soldier mode. But the soldiers around him treated him like a deadly animal, locking down his arms and legs and putting him in a giant box made out of pressurized steele and bulletproof glass. It seemed so excessive. But then he thought about all his past missions, all the enemies he took out by himself, all the enhancements the scientists gave him, and figured maybe this is what he deserved after all. 

He felt like a fish in a bowl, all the soldiers sparing glances at him every time he breathed too big, or shifted in his seat. The seat was  _ uncomfortable _ . But he figured they’d freeze him again soon, just like they always did, and then he’d be stuck in blissful unconsciousness. He could lose his mind, could let the anger at the situation boil over and tear him apart, but what would that achieve? It would not get him back to Mika. It would only get him killed. No, he deserved everything that was coming to him, but he would not put her through seeing him executed. 

And so he sat, eyes glazed over, and thought about every day with Mika since the beginning. He barely noticed as they wheeled the cage onto the armored truck, then transferred him from the truck to a plane. He assumed they were going somewhere in Germany, as that’s what all the soldiers were speaking. He wondered if they knew he could understand them, and then he bit back a laugh as he remembered how mad Mika used to get when he and her sister would speak it in front of her. 

The plane landed, and he was put in another armored truck. He thought about a day at the farmer’s market; Mika had worn a sundress, the fabric soft and light and twirling as she turned to make sure he was keeping up with her. He should have told her then, how beautiful she was. God, why did he wait so long to say anything to her? He knew his reasons, of course, but now, after they’d been together for what felt like forever, he cursed himself for thinking that she would not be receptive to him. He would never feel like he deserved her, and would always think that she deserved better than him, but he loved her, and she wanted him, and that was all he needed to know. 

The truck stopped, a forklift shifting the cage back out into the open world. Bucky’s eyes tracked the soldiers as they moved around his fish bowl, but he wasn’t registering them. He was thinking about that morning, seeing his girl in his flannel, dancing by herself in the kitchen. He caught a brief glance of Steve as they loaded the cage into the elevator, his face worried as he watched them. Bucky looked away without a second thought; Steve would not be able to save him this time. His time had run out.

They took him down to a lower level, not unlike the places where they used to hide him when they dragged him back to the Hydra base. He couldn’t see behind him, but he felt like there was a machine and a cryogenic capsule waiting for him, just like they always were. His head prickled with pain of memories past, and he tried to think of anything,  _ anything _ , besides having that machine on his head again. They could do anything they wanted to him - torture him, punish him, kill him - but he didn’t want to be wiped again, didn’t want to lose his memories. He finally had some good ones for the first time since 1943. What if, this time, they didn’t come back?

He didn’t know how long he waited, staring blankly at the wall between the two armed guards outside the door. But eventually, an unassuming man in glasses came in, his steps slow and careful as he crossed the doorway. Bucky didn’t know why he was so scared, it’s not like he could do anything immediate from this cage.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes. I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit?” he said, his English thick with an accent. He was moving oddly, like a man who was both confident and nervous at the same time. Bucky didn’t want to know what this guy was here for, and didn’t care what he did. He wanted to receive his punishment and get on with it. He chose not to answer the stupid question, which apparently was all the same to this man, as he sat down at the table without any invitation. His voice was already grating against Bucky’s sensitive ears, and all his could do was lean his head back against his uncomfortable seat and try to remember one of the songs Mika played in her apartment. “Your first name is James? I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James? I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.” he finally spoke, his voice gravelly. He supposed he hadn’t used it since his conversation with Steve that morning. Enough with the  _ James _ nonsense. That wasn’t who he was anymore. He was Bucky; that’s how Mika knew him, and that’s how he would stay. He’d died once as James Buchanan Barnes. This time, he would go out as Bucky. The man was quiet for a long time, writing something down on his paper. Bucky idly noticed that he never introduced himself. 

“Tell me, Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” he finally asked, after what felt like an hour of silence. God this guy was weird, and tedious. Bucky was already tired of him, and could only level him with an annoyed gaze as he continued to  _ tap tap tap  _ his pen incessantly against his notebook. What was he supposed to say? He’d been spending the past two years trying to move on from his past. He relived it enough in his nightmares, he didn’t need to reminisce now.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” he replied, his voice sounding tired and defeated even to his own ears. It felt weird speaking English after only speaking Romanian for so long. The only one who knew anything about his past - at least, from him - was Mika, and he was going to keep it that way; this guy didn’t get to know the story just because he was chosen by the UN to do this.  
  
“You fear that, if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” the guy responded. Bucky thought he meant to make it a question, but it came out as a blanket statement. He wanted to roll his eyes and chide  _ you know what they say about assuming _ , but he held his tongue. A phone vibrated in the man’s bag, which seemed to distract him momentarily. He pulled it out and Bucky recognized it as his own, wondering how he got it from the security personnel that had taken everything he had on him. Even from here, he could see Mika’s name on the screen. He felt his facade drop for a split second before he put it back up, not wanting to get her involved. He had to protect her, even now. “Who is Mika?”

“No one.” he said immediately. The lie didn’t hurt, because he knew it was necessary. It did not matter for this man to know who Mika was to him, it wasn’t going to change what he was going to say. He smirked, and Bucky stopped breathing, his gaze never leaving the man in front of him. He couldn’t see his eyes thanks to the reflection of his glasses, which made it even worse.

“She seems awfully concerned for ‘no one.’” he said, a bit of a sneer on his face. If he was trying to interrogate, he was very bad at it. The phone rang again, and Bucky inwardly cursed her stubbornness. This time, the man held his finger over the grey arrow, as if ready to swipe and answer it. Bucky couldn’t help but straighten up slightly, as if willing him not to do it. The man immediately saw the miniscule reaction, and put his hand down, that damn grin never leaving his face. “She is someone, then. Someone who knows you? The real you, that is.”

She did know the real him, and loved him anyway. But Bucky would never admit that. “No. I don’t talk about it.” he replied shortly. The man laughed, as if he didn’t believe him. Bucky wasn’t sure he would believe the lie either. The guy got distracted again, this time by something on his tablet, and Bucky felt the familiar tingle on the back of his neck as he recognized a situation changing. Something wasn’t right.

“Don’t worry, I have no concern over your present. We only have to talk about one part of the past.” One horror, he meant. He tapped the tablet a couple times before looking back to him. The phone, now silent, lay forgotten at his elbow. Bucky was immediately suspicious at that. No, something was definitely wrong, and if that man somehow hurt Mika...no cage or soldiers would be able to protect him. The power suddenly dropped, the room plunging into darkness for a moment before the backup generators started, the dimness of the room punctuated by flashing red lights as the system tried to reboot. The doors to the room slammed shut, locking out the soldiers stationed outside.

“What the hell is this?” Bucky asked lowly. His muscles started aching as he yearned to retreat. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong, and it was this man’s fault. 

“Why don’t we discuss your home?” he asked, his voice still that same annoying calm that made Bucky want to clock him in the jaw. Home? Home was a thousand miles away, with a girl in a little apartment in Romania. What did this guy know of his home? He was pulling something else out of his bag, something Bucky thought he would never see again. This guy didn’t want to talk to Bucky. He wanted to talk to the Winter Soldier. “Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no. I mean your real home.”

Bucky wanted to believe that it had been enough time, that the words wouldn’t do anything to him anymore. But his bones were aching to escape. The man took off his glasses, proudly displaying the red notebook with it’s gaudy, black star on the front. He had a very specific look about him, one that Bucky recognized immediately: it was the look of a man whose plan was coming to fruition. The man stood up, flipping to a certain page. He needed a flashlight to see the journal page, a tiny spotlight over the source of all Bucky’s pain.

_ Longing. _

Bucky shook his head. “No.” The words weren’t going to work anymore. He kept telling himself that, even as he felt the pinprick in the back of his head. It was just a word. It meant nothing to him now. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, hoping to jar his brain enough to reset it, even as his lower lip trembled. Fear gripped his heart, and his muscles started to relax, just as they’d conditioned him to do. Accept the words, accept your fate. Don’t fight it.

_ Rusted _ .

“Stop.” he said. The pain was no longer a pinprick; it was now the size of a dime, right at the back of his head. He was supposed to be better than this, he was supposed to be a good man now. Mika thought he was good. How could he still not fight this?

_ Seventeen _ .

The man walked closer as he said it, and the pain spread to the entire back of his head. No, Bucky remembered when he’d finally given in to the tortures, when he finally let go and let their conditioning take hold. And he would  _ not _ let that happen again. He clenched his metal fist, knowing that if he needed it to, he could free himself from the clamps holding his arms and legs.

“Stop.” he said again, this time louder, much harsher. He wanted to be a good person, give this man a chance before breaking out of this cage and beating him into a pulp. 

_ Daybreak _ . 

Bucky couldn’t stop the scream as the pain enveloped his entire brain, sending electrical pulses down his spine and into his extremities. The relaxation was gone, all he knew was the fire coursing through him. He remembered the day before, remembered how he’d been gripped in this very nightmare and Mika had pulled him out of it. He had to find a focus point, and she would be the best one. He had to get out, for her.

He ripped his metal arm out of its hold, ignoring the incredible pain as he moved away from what his body wanted to do, forcing himself to move. He had to get out, he would  _ not _ go back to being the Soldier. He was done with all of this. He didn’t want to kill anymore, but this man? He needed to die.

The clamps over his other arm and his legs were easily removed, and he could barely hear over the pounding in his ears as the man said  _ furnace _ . He stumbled to the front of the fish bowl, grabbing hold of the bar that was there to keep him inside. He then used it as leverage, sending his metal fist into the thick glass.

_ Nine _ .

He didn’t care what he was saying. He was going to punch through this glass, kill this man, and get out of here, no matter what.  _ I’m sorry, Mika,  _ he thought to himself. He didn’t want to go back to being that man, the man that just solved problems by ending lives. But if he had to choose between that or becoming the Winter Soldier again? It wasn’t even a choice, not really.

_ Benign _ .

He felt the pain in the center of his back, but he ignored it, continuing to hit the glass over and over and over. He had to get out, had to get out,  _ had to get out _ . There were only three words left, and he could feel as his brain started to fog over, but he pictured Mika’s face and pushed through it. A crack appeared in the glass, giving him something else to focus on.

_ Homecoming _ .

The word made him hesitate. His legs no longer felt like his, felt numb and foreign. He continued anyway.

_ One. _

His memories started to fade, but he didn’t need memories to get out and to stop this man. He just needed to focus. Ignore the pain, ignore the fog, ignore how it felt like his lower half was filled with lead. He pulled back once more, putting every ounce of his strength into it and finally forcing the door off his hinges. But as he stepped out, he heard the final words,

_ Freight car. _

Silence.

Numbness.

Fog.

Darkness.

The Soldier stayed in his crouched position, eyes and ears open as he took in as much sensory input as possible, processing it quickly. He was below ground, with one man here with him - the man that called him, the man that would give him marching orders. The Soldier stood, levelling with the man in front of him; there was something about him he didn’t like, but that did not matter. It was not his job to like people. It was his job to complete his mission.

“Soldier?” the man asked. He did not have the confidence of his previous handlers. Perhaps he was new. There had been many handlers over the years; the Soldier did not know who they were, he only knew that they were the ones with the instructions. Follow instructions, complete the mission. Shape history. That’s what he was told.

“Ready to comply.” he said. His throat felt dry, as it always did when he responded to the call. It did not matter. He did not require sustenance. They would give him what he needed whenever he returned to his cold, cold room. 

“Mission report. December 16, 1991.” he said, this time much more fearlessly. Good, he was direct. He would not waste the Soldier’s time. The Soldier delivered the mission report in a succinct manner, as he was instructed, ignoring the men at the door as they tried to pry it open. As he finished, the other soldiers finally got the door open, rushing in with their guns drawn. The man didn’t flinch. “Take everyone out except for me.”

The Soldier didn’t hesitate, immediately taking out the first guard and using him as a shield to take out the second, third, and fourth. He shoved his way through the doors, idly counting his enemies as they came at him, and crossing them off the list. It felt good to exercise his muscles again, to move without the hesitation of the weaker side of him. He knew about the Man of course, the part of him that some would call a conscience. He had no use for him. In this life, it was kill or be killed, and he had been ordered long ago to survive. When everyone was down, he returned to his commanding officer for further orders. The first two missions had been easy. He could handle more. The Man slowed him as he walked by the table the commanding officer sat at earlier. There was a cell phone on the edge of it. The Soldier didn’t want to pick it up, afraid it could be tracked, but the Man made a good point: information, limitless information. That’s what the phone held. He took it, sliding it into his pocket. 

“All clear?” the man asked him, trust in his tone. He knew he could count on the Soldier. The Soldier never failed. 

“Clear.” he responded, his mouth still as dry as it was before. Water would be nice. But he could survive without it, if he needed to. He heard sounds above him, feet on stairs as someone hurried down towards them. He tilted his head to hear better; it was two people, one significantly slower than the other.

“Someone coming?” the commanding officer asked. The Soldier nodded.

“Two men. Likely hostile.” he responded shortly. They should be close enough for the man to hear them now too. He thought of seven different ways to initiate an attack on them, but his planning was interrupted.

“Hide in the shadows. If they let me go, you’re dismissed. If they try to hurt me, you take them out. Then you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” the Soldier replied, fading into hiding. He waited as another man entered, a man he recognized - the man from the bridge, the man who made him fail his last mission. He would not fail this time.

“Get up.” the man from the bridge said, pulling his commanding officer to his feet. The Soldier thought to step in then, but there was still the second man coming down the stairs. It would be easier if he had all information before engaging with the enemy. He moved to the opposite corner, so he had views of the door and of the men. The man from the bridge pushed his commanding officer against the wall and asked him why he was here, and what he wanted. Who cared? The Soldier bided his time. Waited.

“To see an empire fall.”

The second enemy finally entered the room. After a quick assessment, the Soldier was unimpressed. He stepped to him immediately, sending his essential arm towards his head. The man managed to duck in time, the Soldier’s fist crushing the concrete of the wall behind him. The enemy was quicker than he anticipated. But still not quick enough. The enemy tried to swing, but the hit was easily blocked. The Soldier sent a lightning fast punch to his abdomen before grabbing him by the jaw, throwing him towards the cage they tried to lock him in earlier. One man down.

Of course, this caught the attention of the man from the bridge, who released his commanding officer and lunged toward him. The Soldier tried to hit him with the essential arm, but once again it was dodged. The essential arm wasn’t as responsive as it usually was, which was unfortunate, but not endangering. He would make it work. 

The man from the bridge was much faster than the first enemy, standing up and hitting him with his fist. The Soldier did not feel the pain, and it was not hard enough to knock him off his feet. He swung the essential arm back, not planning to connect, instead just putting space between them. Just enough space to reach out with his leg and kick him in the chest. He stumbled back and fell on the floor, but was able to scramble up and block the next kick. The Soldier could see him shift his weight; he would go for his legs. He knelt, easily shoving his foot away. They stood to their full heights, the Soldier sending his metal arm once and twice to try and derail him. He was off balance, and another foot to the chest sent him careening backwards. He tried to crush his skull with the metal arm, but he was able to move out of the way, leaving nothing but a massive dent in the elevator doors behind him. He went for a larger target - his chest - but his arm was stopped in both his hands, the man surprisingly able to hold his own against the strength of the prosthetic. He pushed him back marginally; no, that wouldn’t do. The Soldier shifted his weight, using his own and the other man’s to completely shove him through the busted doors and drop him into the shaft below. A loud noise echoed from where the man hit his head on a metal beam, and an even louder crash sounded from where he landed. Good. He was done.

The Soldier turned to find the hall empty of conscious people. The commanding officer nodded; that must mean he was dismissed. But where was he dismissed to?

_ Just leave. _

Again, the Man made a fair point. Though he had no extraction location, he was sure his handlers would find him. He stalked out of the hallway, finding the stairs and taking them two at a time. He would exit on the ground floor, and then go into hiding from there and wait for further orders. Footsteps sounded below him, and a quick glance told him the first enemy from earlier had regained his footing. There was no need to waste time going back for him, it was more efficient to simply outrun him.

Men with batons greeted him on the ground floor, but they were slow and sloppy. He incapacitated them easily, not bothering to hold back his strength as he landed hit after hit. He was finally able to obtain a weapon, but before he could subdue its previous owner, a wave of  _ something _ hit him, momentarily stunning his nervous system. He turned towards its epicenter to find a man in a three piece suit with a red metal hand. Finally, a contender. 

The red metal hand emitted a bright light, once again stunning the Soldier’s senses. What the  _ fuck _ . Why didn’t his essential arm have these enhancements? His handlers needed to steal this technology. Perhaps he should amputate the hand and bring it back with him. The man in the suit tried to engage him, tried to take the gun away from him, but the Soldier would not have that. In a series of quick moves, he regained his weapon, and he was barely able to cover the muzzle of the barrel with his red metal hand before the Soldier pulled the trigger. His face showed surprise; he was not trained like the Soldier was.

He was, however, able to pull the piece apart, using the moment of shock to smack the Soldier across the face with it. A weak way to use an efficient weapon. He should have stabbed him in the neck, or the abdomen. The Soldier used his strength to punch the man in his stomach, knocking the wind from him and sending him sailing across the room. One down.

“Bucky?” a voice came. A familiar voice. But not the voice from the man on the bridge, who was the last one to call him that. Bucky. Who the hell was Bucky? He turned to see a young woman running towards him, and though her posture was not defensive or aggressive, he had to treat everyone as an enemy. The Man, who usually kept quiet, started pulling at him, trying to convince him to turn, to leave, to let the woman go. But the Soldier could not let her go. Her expression gave away her familiarity. She had to be eliminated.

Bucky’s worst fear was realized: Mika was now face to face with the Winter Soldier.


	39. Lost in Translation

It became very obvious very quickly that the man in front of her was  _ not _ Bucky.

Sure, he had his body, but everything from his eyes to the way he walked was different. The Winter Soldier levelled her with a harsh gaze, turning to her and stalking towards her. She opened her mouth to call his name again, but her voice died in her throat as he neared her. He walked with no hesitation to his movements and no recognition in his face, and Mika realized that she now had two options: try to outrun the super soldier, or try to fight him long enough to wake Bucky up. She took one step backwards, her weight already shifting onto her toes as she weighed her options. Fight, or flight? She looked at the man in front of her, and thought she didn’t go through hundreds of early morning hours at the gym and even more time falling for him to leave him now. 

The Winter Soldier took the first swing, his metal arm flying in a wide arc towards her. She ducked, the hit so close to landing that his arm swiped her ponytail. If she thought there was any chance of him holding back or going easy on her, the idea completely evaporated. This was not their sparring sessions. This was a real fight, and she was going to have to treat it as such. He didn’t wait after the first punch, sending his knee towards her face. She was barely able put her hands up in time, the force of the kick pushing her backwards. He’d always complimented her quickness, and now she was putting it to the test. His attacks were relentless, coming so fast that she wasn’t able to reciprocate, only react. The good thing was, while Bucky was always subtle in his movements, artful and surprising in his approach, the Winter Soldier was bold and obvious. He was not making an effort to hide what he was going to do, so while Mika could not beat him on speed or strength, she could at least predict him.

“I know you’re there! You can fight this!” she said, her voice cracking as she continued to evade his attacks. Once upon a time, she’d been offended when he said how much he held back during their sparring sessions; now, she completely understood why. The Soldier said nothing, his expression never changing as they continued to fight. She never went on the offensive, just kept defending hit after hit. She was getting tired, very tired, and she knew that if she didn’t break through to him or get some help soon, then she was going to lose. 

He caught her wrist, and she twisted and pulled in the exact way he taught her that first morning at the gym. He grabbed her ponytail with his right hand, and she had to use all her weight and momentum to spin and pull out of it. She heard a sickening  _ crack _ from above her which was followed by him releasing her, and she took the opportunity to put some space between them. His arm hung limply by his side, the same way it had that night of the explosion at the warehouse. But instead of careful reduction of the dislocation, he simply reached across with his metal arm and popped it back into place, the joint making a disgusting  _ smack _ sound and the pain barely registering on his face. She stood, shocked, as he stepped to her and with speed she wasn’t ready for, grabbed her by the neck with his right hand. She barely got her fingers between his hand and her neck, giving her just enough room to breathe and stay conscious as he unapologetically tried to choke her. She knew Bucky was in there somewhere, but the man in front of her was a complete stranger whose face she didn’t even recognize.

“Bucky, please. It’s me. It’s Mika.” she gasped out, her voice strained as she spoke over his grip. She hadn’t wanted to respond to the attacks this whole time, but it appeared she was out of options. As she said the last word, she saw his face change just slightly, his grip relaxing a miniscule amount. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but somehow knew that he would be disappointed if she didn’t take advantage of this momentary lapse, no matter how small it was. She sank her elbow into the fleshy part of his forearm, right where he taught her so that she would hit the nerves. His hand spasmed and almost released, but not completely. He did completely let go, however, when she reached with her leg and slammed the heel of her boot just below his sternum. 

She stumbled backwards as his hand left her throat, cursing her balance as she hit the floor coughing. How was her balance always so bad? He was still looking down at her with the same expression, but wasn’t moving towards her. He stood with his stance wide and his elbows bent, as if he were ready to jump back in at any moment. But his hands were flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing, as if he were deciding what to do. Had she gotten through to him?

She opened her mouth to say his name again, but was interrupted by a woman slamming into Bucky, knee first into his stomach. Mika could hear the air leave him in a rush, but other than that, the Soldier showed no sign of feeling the hit. He turned his attention to her, holding up his arms to easily block the powerful kicks she sent towards him. He shot an arm out at her, but she ducked, allowing a red headed woman (holy shit, was that  _ Black Widow?! _ ) to step in and punch him twice, once in the abdomen and once in the groin. He doubled over just enough for the first woman to kick across his face, and while her heart ached at the sight of them beating him, she knew that he was still not the one in control. As long as they didn’t kill him, they would be alright. 

The blonde wrapped a leg around his shoulders, trying to use the strongest part of her to bring him down. But she wasn’t strong enough, and he was able to grab her and throw her down on a nearby table as if she weighed nothing. The hit was hard enough for the table to break, collapsing underneath her and drowning out the noise of pain she made. The Black Widow took over after that, swinging herself up so that her legs were clamped around his neck. The Soldier wasn’t phased, his hands going to her legs and gripping so hard that Mika could see them digging into her thighs. She knew she should leave, or get help, or something, but she was completely transfixed by what was going on in front of her as the reality of the situation set in: she was too late. She hadn’t saved him. She’d let him down.

The Black Widow tried to knock him out, but her hits might as well have been gentle taps for as much damage as they did. He slammed her down onto another table, and this one managed to stay standing as he grabbed her neck with his metal arm. Mika could hear her gasping, see her struggling, but couldn’t bring herself to get up from the floor. Luckily, someone else could, a Black man running in and kicking him away from the table. For a moment, she thought the man could keep up with the Soldier, but he landed a solid hit that knocked him off his feet. The Soldier looked at her one last time, the moment so brief Mika wasn’t entirely sure it happened, before he turned and went for the stairs. He was already up to the first landing and rounding the corner before she finally unfroze, scrambling to her feet and going to follow him. She didn’t make it far before someone grabbed her arm, halting her progress and yelling at her in English.

“Ma’am! You need to come with us! Right now!” he said, his grip rough on her arm. She pulled free, just the way Bucky taught her, and made to go after him again. He grabbed her once more and she tried to wrestle away, but he clicked handcuffs into place over one wrist, and she stopped struggling. She didn’t know how to get out of handcuffs, and if this guy had them, then there was no telling what else he had to detain her. She couldn’t very well find Bucky again if he gunned her down for evading arrest.

“No, you don’t understand, I have to go. I’ll be fine.” she rambled in Romanian, her anxiety making her forget to translate. The agent grabbed her by the upper arm, his eyes wide and his face grotesquely animated as he loudly and slowly said,

“Come. With. Us. Now.” He spoke to her as if she were hard of hearing or slow to understand, which immediately made her blood boil. She opened her mouth to respond, but realized why he was speaking to her that way: he didn’t think she understood English. She wanted to ask why he thought she would magically understand him if he spoke louder and slower, but decided to hold her tongue for the moment. Bucky was going to escape, of that she was sure; but she didn’t know who had switched on the Soldier, and it was possibly in her best interests to play dumb until she could get more information and figure out her next move.

“Can you understand anything I’m saying? Anything at all?” she asked rapidly, and the way the man’s eyes glazed over gave her the answer. “So I could say anything to you right now and you would have no idea. Dumbass.”

“You.” He pointed a finger at her sternum roughly, and she resisted the urge to bite it, even if she’d never done such a thing before. “Come.” He gestured his hand in a circle towards himself, beckoning her. If this wasn’t such a stressful situation, she might have laughed at his poor charades. “Now.”

“What’s going on here? Who is this, and why have you detained her?” the blonde woman from before appeared at the agent’s side, her eyes moving between Mika and the man as she assessed the situation. Mika pressed her lips together, not knowing if this woman spoke Romanian or not. Behind her, other agents helped the injured ones up, the Black Widow righting herself and going to help one specific man - holy shit, was that  _ Tony Stark?!  _ \- before they strode away. The red head spared her a look before Mr. Stark took her attention again.

“This woman knew the Winter Soldier, tried to talk to him and ended up fighting him. I think she may be involved, we gotta bring her in for questioning.” the agent explained, talking as if Mika were an annoying child. She tried so hard to keep her face neutral and not respond to the statement. The blonde looked at her, just as serious but much more gentle as she asked,

“Is this true? Do you know him?” For a second, Mika forgot the act that she was putting on, but then she remembered that she didn’t know who was good, and who was trying to hurt Bucky. She decided to test her luck.

“I do know him. Very well, in fact. He’s been in my bed the past three nights.” she said in Romanian, and sure enough the woman looked just as confused as the other agent had moments ago. Good, another person that might give her more information, if she played her cards right.

“Okay, let’s just get her upstairs. We’ll see what Ross wants to do.” she said to the agent. She put her hand around Mika’s upper arm, her touch much less aggressive, but telling to the strength she could use if she needed to. The commotion that had been going in the stairwell had stopped, and Mika breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed Bucky had managed to escape. She had no choice but to follow the agents, allowing them to lead her upstairs to a bunch of cubicles separated by clear walls. It looked much more modern than the building she worked in, and she tried not to be too impressed by the way people were running about, screaming different orders and coordinates at each other. The blonde woman took her into a separate office, sitting her down in an uncomfortable chair. She unlocked one of the handcuffs and Mika thought she was going to be free for a moment, but instead the cuff was locked onto the table in front of her. And there she was meant to wait, and try and figure out what she was going to do next. This, she realized, was what Elena was afraid of.

“Who the hell is that?” Everett Ross asked Agent Carter, gesturing at the random brunette woman handcuffed in one of the offices. There were too many problems going on right now for him to be worried about a civilian. 

“Agent Mullens here said she spoke to the Winter Soldier as if she knew him. She might have information.” Agent Carter explained, though she sounded slightly suspicious of the idea. Ross stared at the woman for a long while, trying to figure out why she looked vaguely familiar. He gave up, turning to Mullens.

“You said she knew him? What did she say?” he asked, and the agent hesitated for a minute before answering him.

“I don’t know, sir. I don’t think she speaks English. She doesn’t seem super threatening, but...” he confessed, and Ross could only look at him and try to decide if he was kidding before heaving a frustrated sigh. 

“She doesn’t speak English.” he stated. It wasn’t unheard of, but something didn’t feel right about it. He turned to Carter.

“She doesn’t  _ appear _ to speak English.” she said, her tone suggesting that her thoughts matched Ross’s. He cleared his throat, trying to contain his frustration with Agent Mullens.

“Do you even have a name for her?” he asked, not bothering to hide the ire in his tone. The Agent nodded, holding out a tablet displaying a SHIELD contractor badge picture of the same woman in the office. It listed her name as  _ Mika Corsof, _ as well as her clearance level and her relevant information. Ross knew he knew that name, but he couldn’t quite remember where he’d seen it before. He exited out of the file, typing in her last name and waiting for relevant files to pop up. Mika’s was the second one on the list, and the first...ah, that’s why she looked familiar.

“So you’re telling me that Raisa Corsof’s sister wanders in and appears to know the Winter Soldier, and you don’t think she’s a threat?” he asked, his anger increasing. How green were these agents working this case?

“Raisa Corsof? Who’s that?” Mullens asked, and Ross was so annoyed by the question that he could only roll his eyes in answer, relying on Agent Carter to pick up the slack.

“Raisa Corsof was the tactician for the original Stryke team.” she said quietly. She’d been a legend when she started at the SHIELD academy, stories either telling of how cruel and efficient she could be or serving as a warning for what happened to those who got in too deep. Her file was still classed as AWOL, but Sharon knew better than that. 

“Mullens, you’re with me. Carter, go find Romanoff.” Ross ordered, buttoning the jacket to his suit and walking towards the office without seeing if either of the agents were following his instructions. Mullens jogged to keep up with him, and while Ross could feel the agent looking at him, he did not take his eyes off the woman in the office.

“Sir, what are we doing?” he asked, and while Ross knew he probably just wanted to be in on the plan, he didn’t have the time or the patience to explain it all to him.

“We’re calling her bluff.” he said shortly, pushing open the door. Mika sat up straight as he entered, though her posture was limited by her handcuff. He didn’t bother sitting down in front of her, instead choosing to stand, resting his hands on the back of the chair in front of her. She said something to him in Romanian that he didn’t understand, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He would get his answers soon enough.

“This is what I-”

“Shut up, Mullens.” Ross said quietly. He turned to Mika. “Anything you want to tell us? Anything you want to admit before I bring in someone else to do the hard work for me? Hm?” He didn’t give any pretenses to how annoyed he was, instead just raising his eyebrows and looking at her like a child in a principal's office. She said something else in Romanian, and he got the distinct impression that she was calling him a very rude name. He saw Carter walking up with Romanoff in tow, both women looking vaguely confused at what was happening.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Romanoff started, stepping into the office with them. “As I told Agent Carter, I think my talents would be better suited elsewhere right now.”

“Do you speak Romanian, Romanoff?” Ross asked, ignoring her statement. If she was surprised by the question she disguised it very well. Mika sat star struck; Natasha Romanoff was a bit of a hero to her, and to be in the same room with her was never something she expected to happen.

“Yes, sir.” she said, unsure of where he was going with this. She knew they picked Barnes up in Romania, but what did that have to do with the woman sitting at the table here? The one who’d tried to stop his escape?

“Good. Then you can maybe get some answers from our friend here who doesn’t  _ appear _ to speak any English.” he said, gesturing towards Mika. Mika froze in her seat; she hadn’t counted on anyone speaking Romanian, and  _ definitely _ hadn’t counted on being interviewed by the former KGB assassin. She gulped, wondering what tactics they were going to use to question her. Torture? Truth serum? She couldn’t handle either of those. But she would have to, if it meant saving Bucky. The Black Widow sighed, sinking into the seat across from her and levelling her with a steady, intimidating gaze.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, clasping her hands in front of her. She spoke perfect Romanian, though her accent was different than Bucky’s. Mika randomly remembered that she read in the SHIELD data dump that the woman’s first language was Russian.

“Yes.” she replied. There was no use lying to her, as she gave off the distinct impression of being able to completely read a person. Mika would not be able to hide any of her expressions from her, so she would have to control her words, which had never been something she was good at. It wasn’t hard right now, since she was dealing with the stress of the situation combined with the excitement of being in the same room as Natasha Romanoff, but she knew that would not last long.

“Do you know why they’ve called me?” she followed up, and she said it in a way that could mean either to translate or to use other, more persuasive, methods of interrogation.

“Because they can’t understand me.” Mika said before pressing her lips together again. Her statement implied that while they could not understand her, she could definitely understand them. She’d already said too much. A slight smirk appeared on the Black Widow’s face, so subtle that Mika could only pick it up because of all the time she spent with Bucky, whose own expressions were often subdued.

“So you are pulling one over on them.” she said, and it sounded more like a statement than a question. Everything she said sounded like it had another meaning underneath it, but for the life of her Mika couldn’t figure out what it was. 

“Just don’t know who to trust.” she replied. It was the truth, so no one could fault her there. She didn’t want to lie to these agents, but she did need to get out of here as quickly as possible. She needed to find Bucky again, preferably before anyone else did. This was trouble. This was  _ big _ trouble.

“Is it true what they say? That you know the Winter Soldier?” she asked, changing tactics. She was much more direct than Mika was expecting, which made her even more nervous. It was hard to evade a direct question; perhaps that’s why the Black Widow was asking them.

“Bucky.” she replied. The three other Agents in the room perked up at that, finally hearing a word from her that they could understand. The Black Widow ignored them. 

“Right, Bucky.” she conceded, as if it weren’t the first time she was having that conversation. “How do you know him? Did you help him plant the bomb?”

“He didn’t plant that bomb!” Mika exclaimed, unable to stop herself. She was tired,  _ so tired _ , of people saying he did something that he didn’t do. Her face didn’t change except for one eyebrow lifting ever so slightly, her eyes taking in more information than Mika felt like she was giving off. She’d never felt so exposed in her life.

“And how do you know that?” she asked. Her posture, her expression, everything was perfectly still. It was rather unnerving. Mika glanced at the other three agents in the room; the two men, she definitely did not trust. They stood in dominant postures, trying to threaten her without using words. It did nothing but piss her off. The blonde - they called her Agent Carter, right? - and the Black Widow, though, seemed different. She knew one was a good friend of Captain America’s, who was a good friend of Bucky’s, back in the day. Mika knew nothing of Agent Carter, but based on the way she stood, the way she interacted with her, she figured that she was not completely against her.

“Who told you where he was?” Mika asked a question, the first one she’d managed to voice the whole time she’d been with these people. She didn’t know if they would answer her, but it was worth a try. Agent Romanoff leaned back in her chair, turning her head to Agent Carter and purposefully away from the other two agents in the room. She stepped forward, close enough for Agent Romanoff to murmur,

“Who gave you the intel on Barnes’ location?” Agent Romanoff seemed genuinely interested, and Mika was certainly surprised. She had not expected to get answers to any of her questions, let alone so easily. Agent Carter pulled out her phone and scrolled through it, her brows furrowed as she searched for the information she wanted.

“It came from a man named...Alexei Fortescu.” she said lowly. Mika nearly jumped out of her chair at that, the handcuff biting into her wrist. Three of the agents startled at her reaction, the young man’s hand even going for the pistol at his waist. The older man held a hand out in front of him, staying his actions. Only Agent Romanoff remained calm and still, as if she were expecting the outburst.

“That bitch ass mother fucker-” Mika let the swears out before she could stop herself. How  _ dare _ he? Just cause he was a jealous bastard, he was willing to destroy everything she and Bucky had together? She was never,  _ never _ , going to speak to him again, and if he was ever within arm’s reach again, she was going to punch him square in the throat. 

“I answered your question. Answer mine. I have more pressing concerns at the moment.” Agent Romanoff said, her tone still steady. Mika looked at her for a long moment, trying to contain herself again. She was royally pissed, but she needed to focus. She shoved her anger at Alexei down, focusing and still figuring out a way to get out of here and help Bucky.

“He’s been with me. He couldn’t have been in Vienna, because he’s been staying with me.” she answered, hoping that Agent Romanoff was actually someone she could trust, someone that might help her, someone that would see that Bucky was not in the wrong here.

“Do you have any proof besides your word?” she asked, and Mika’s heart skipped a beat. Of course she didn’t have any proof; they very rarely took pictures, and spent most of their time just hanging out. “I can’t help you if you can’t give me proof.”

Mika thought of their activities the night before and blushed deeply. “Um, not without things getting very...invasive.” she whispered, crossing her legs in a protective manner. Agent Romanoff’s face showed understanding, and she nodded.

“No, I wouldn’t subject you to that.” she said, and Mika let out a sigh of relief. She was willing to do whatever it took to save Bucky, but if certain things could be avoided, she much preferred that. 

“He didn’t do what they say he did. He’s not who they say he is.” she said, her throat thick with emotions. She was quickly losing her edge, feeling like she was completely out of control in what was going on. She couldn’t trick the Black Widow, couldn’t hope to outwit or outmatch trained agents. She wasn’t a spy, or an assassin. She was just trying to save her loved one, and that’s all she had left. 

“Who is he, then?” she asked. Another direct question.

“He’s a good man, just trying to live a quiet life. The person that was downstairs, that wasn’t him. He would never do such a thing.” she said, getting desperate. She needed them to see him as she did: as someone who was kind, and loving, and trying to heal the pain of his past.

“But you are aware of his past, right? The things he’s done?” she continued, making Mika bristle. It was only the second time she’d had the question directed at her, but she was already getting sick of it. 

“He’s not the enemy. He was a victim.” she said. Why couldn’t anybody see that? 

Agent Romanoff sat for a long time after that statement, the silence heavy around them. She was trying to size up her words, and see how they fit into the larger puzzle. Mika waited as patiently as she could, her eyes going between the four agents in front of her. It sunk in that the woman in front of her was the only one who had any idea what was going on.

“What is it? What did she say?” the older man asked, clearly impatient with how this was going. Agent Romanoff hesitated to answer, and was saved by another agent barging into the room.

“Sir, you’re needed in the control room.” he said, earning a sharp look from the man.

“I’m in the middle of something.” he said through clenched teeth, but the agent didn’t back down or show fear.

“Sir. I must insist.” he said, making his superior sigh in a frustrated manner.

“Go ahead. I’ve got this.” Agent Romanoff said without looking behind her. The other three agents hesitated before following the older man out of the room, Agent Carter sparing one last glance in her direction before taking her leave. Mika’s eyes followed them as they strode across the office, and she strained to see the monitors on the opposite side of the floor. She couldn’t make out any details, couldn’t see if they’d found Bucky or not. 

“What happens now?” she asked, scared of the answer. Did she even know?

“If he is who you say he is…” she took an obvious glance around the office, her eyes stopping on two chairs that had men’s jackets on the back of them. Two men were missing; the two men she’d seen on the television with Bucky? Captain America, and his friend? Again, she got the impression that Agent Romanoff was trying to tell her something without saying it, and Mika felt like her stomach was in her throat. “...then you have a choice to make.”

With that, she stood up and promptly exited the room. Mika was beyond confused; was she supposed to wait? Was she supposed to follow her? What was she supposed to do? She was still handcuffed to the table, which was her first problem. She looked across the office again; all the other agents were watching the screens, but the Black Widow was looking at her. Mika could have sworn she winked before slowly and purposefully turning her back to her. 

That had to be it. Mika pulled a pin from her hair, digging one end of it into the little hole in the handcuffs. Dammit, this always looked so much easier in the movies. She fiddled with it, probably trying too hard as she tried to work too fast; she could pick locks at home, why couldn’t she pick this one? She let out a frustrated groan before clapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked back to where the agents were. Luckily, none of them heard her, and she was able to try again. 

She could have cried with relief when the cuff finally popped open, and while she wanted to take a minute to rub her sore and raw skin, she didn’t have the time. She checked to make sure her keys and her phone were still in her pocket before getting up, keeping her eyes on the agents the entire time. They were still enraptured with the screens, Agent Romanoff pointing out something very obvious to them. She didn’t know where her purse was, but that didn’t matter now. She had the means to escape, and hopefully the means to find Bucky. Did he even still have his phone on him? She didn’t know, but she at least had to try. 

She moved as silently as she could down the hallway, back the direction from which they came. Elevators were not an option; they could easily hack the programming and shut them down if they realized she was in there. No, she needed to take the stairs, and for the first time in six years she was glad she got an apartment on the fifteenth floor. Her heart hammered twice for each step she took, her ears ringing as she tried to listen for anyone pursuing her. Her anxiety didn’t diminish as she made it to the ground floor, sprinting out the front door and onto the sidewalk, running as far and as fast as she could until her legs were jello and her lungs were on fire. She ducked into a playground, sitting on a bench on the far side as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Thankfully, it hadn’t been injured in her fight with the Soldier, and despite her exhaustion, she held her breath as she opened her homemade application. 

She tried not to think about how she was technically a fugitive now, and instead started counting the circles the little loading marker made, its rounds never stopping as it tried to connect. Tears started to fill her eyes as she watched it, her heart dropping with every revolution. They spilled onto her cheeks as the map finally popped up, her little blue and green dots blinking in real time. She took a steadying breath, then another, trying to prepare herself for the worst. The green dot was just where the phone was, not necessarily where Bucky was. And perhaps his body had the phone, but he would not be the person she found when she reached it. She remembered that moment, when she said his name, when she reminded him who she was, when the Soldier’s grip loosened just a bit.

She didn’t know what would be at the green dot, but she had to find out.


	40. Fair/Unfair

Fuck, did it always hurt this much to wake up?

Bucky bit back a groan as he regained consciousness, his mind a mess and his head pounding from the confusion and...the fight. He couldn’t remember the details yet, but he knew what this feeling meant. He’d been in a fight, and a big one. He tried to take inventory of his body, to see exactly what was hurt; there were definitely bruises, perhaps a couple broken ribs, and his shoulder was definitely injured, but he would live. He always lived.  _ My name is Bucky, _ he thought, the beginning of his morning mantra coming to him. Thank God that, despite all the other conditioning he’d endured, this one also stuck.  _ I live in Bucharest… _

But wait, he wasn’t in Bucharest. He was in...Germany. Berlin. The details of the morning came back to him, the freshest memories he had that weren’t from the Soldier. He let out a sigh, his anger at recent events overshadowed by his disappointment in himself. He thought he was better than that, stronger than that. He thought he was strong enough to overcome the training they’d put in his head, but apparently its roots were deeper in his mind than he could ever imagine. He’d been stupid,  _ so stupid _ , to think that he’d ever be rid of it. He was just glad that Mika wasn’t here to see him at his lowest. His mind tingled then, a memory trying to formulate. He’d been thinking of Mika, before that asshole who definitely was not a psychologist used the words. Is that why he felt this way? His heart hurt, to think of her. It was debatable before if he’d ever be able to see her again, but now thanks to a reappearance of the Winter Soldier, he knew that his time with her was over. There was no way he could go back to her, knowing he was still a danger, and there was no way she would still want him, knowing how unstable he was. If he thought his heart hurt before, that thought was enough to break it.

“Hey, Cap!” someone called, and he immediately grew still. He didn’t know that voice. Footsteps sounded from somewhere in the warehouse; he knew the sounds of those. Seemed Steve was just as stubborn as he’d been back in the 1940’s. He tried to sit up, but his body hurt, and his metal arm was pinned under a clamp of some sort. He couldn’t bite back the groan as he moved, cursing the Soldier in his mind. That mother fucker never cared about injuries, and now Bucky was paying the price for it.

“Steve.” he greeted as the other man came into view. His voice was more of a weak whisper as he realized how many of his ribs were broken, a deeper breath revealing that his sternum was also cracked. It took him a second to recognize him, but he did. The memories that he worked so hard to reclaim started slowly falling into place, though there were still huge gaps. Most notably, he could not remember the time after the words. He didn’t try hard to think of that. 

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asked, using his Captain voice. If he wasn’t in danger of puncturing a lung, he might have laughed at the dramatics. He had to admit it was a fair question, even if he still wanted to ignore the side of him that they’d obviously encountered earlier. He couldn’t just say it was himself, that he was back in his own mind. That was a tactic that the Soldier would use, an easy lie to tell to hopeful ears. He had to prove it.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah.” he said. It was the first thing he could remember about Steve. The look on the man’s face said he was unimpressed; after all, that was something he could have read in the museum, and he’d already admitted to that. He tried to rifle through his chaotic brain and find something else, anything else. Another tidbit came to him, and he chuckled. Of course that would be the first thing he thought of. “You used to wear newspaper in your shoes.” He’d always wanted to be as tall as Bucky, and now he had a couple inches on him. 

Steve’s face changed. “Can’t read that in a museum.” he said, and as ridiculous as this situation was, Bucky was glad that he could see it was him. He didn’t want to fight him again. He didn’t want to fight anymore at all. 

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Steve’s friend said, his voice rightly annoyed. Bucky would have asked the same question, back in the day. He wouldn’t trust himself either in this situation - in fact, he still wasn’t sure he did. After all, he could clearly still be manipulated by the words that Hydra buried in his head, and his mind was still fragile from the asshole earlier. 

“What did I do?” he asked, and he could hear in his own voice how tired he sounded. He needed to know exactly how bad it was, exactly who he hurt. He would add it to the list of things for which he needed to atone. Why had they been chasing him again? He couldn’t remember. God, his head hurt.

“Enough.” Steve said, and what was left of his broken heart descended into his stomach. His mind was still meddled, but he knew he’d been hopeful at one point. What little he had before was now gone.

“Oh God, I knew this would happen.” he murmured, more to himself than anyone. The possibility was always in the back of his mind, and while he’d hoped that time would heal the wounds, the nightmares and the flashbacks told a different story that he’d stubbornly ignored. But now he couldn’t deny it. “Everything Hydra put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.” 

“Who was he?” Steve asked immediately, making Bucky bristle. In the past few hours he’d been chased from his home, plunged into the darkest aspect of his mind, and ripped out again, leaving every piece of him broken. And he wanted to know who that asshole was?

“I don’t know.” he said, angry and desperate. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be free of this shit, he was not supposed to be here. For the first time in a long time, Bucky felt everything was royally and entirely unfair. But fairness didn’t matter. What mattered was that he’d fucked up again, this time possibly beyond repair.

“People are dead,” Steve continued, as if that was going to help the situation. Of course people were dead, if the Soldier had been out. Bucky was very painfully aware of that, thank you. “The bombing, the setup - the doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know.’”

_ Well shit, Stevie _ , is what he wanted to say. But that wasn’t going to help the situation. Perhaps, if he cooperated, they would let him go. Maybe, if he just went along with what they needed, they would help him escape so that he could go live the rest of his days in solitude. He’d had a backup place...Bucharest? No, that’s where he had been. His mind still scrambled as he tried to remember. Croatia, that’s where he needed to go. 

He ignored the pain in his head as he tried to remember the moment after the activation, what the asshole had wanted. He hadn’t commanded him a task straight away. They’d stood for about five minutes. What had they discussed? He’d asked about a mission report, a mission report for…

“He wanted to know about Siberia.” Bucky realized. But why had he wanted to know about Siberia? Siberia was where the cold room was, where the machine slept, where  _ he  _ slept. That’s it, he’d wanted to know about the home that wasn’t his home anymore. “Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve asked, and once again his voice was stern. Bucky furrowed his brows, stars twinkling in front of his eyes as he pushed past the pain and tried to remember the next bit, to remember what the asshole had said, to try and figure out why he would care about Siberia. His heart, which couldn’t drop any lower, stopped completely as he realized the motive.

“Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.” he said. Steve stayed quiet, his hands on his hips as he waited for Bucky to continue. His friend (Bucky still didn’t know his name), was pacing, his eyes sharp as he listened to the conversation. He was clearly a soldier as well, though didn’t seem to be enhanced. Still, Bucky didn’t know what he was hiding up his sleeve. “Look, can we…” he nodded at the clamp over his arm, though the movement sent another bolt of pain through him. He knew Steve’s friend was right to be on edge, but that didn’t help him relax any. And if they wanted him to remember shit, then he needed to be calm, not watching some guy wear a line in the floor while his only weapon was inaccessible. Steve nodded, pulling on a heavy gear that was mean to be turned by electricity and creating just enough space for Bucky to pull his metal arm free. Turned out the clamp was helping him stay upright, and he damn near collapsed against the metal. Neither Steve nor his friend moved to help him. Fair.

He remembered the mission report that the asshole asked for; December 16, 1991. The Soldier had been called upon to retrieve a suitcase with a serum inside, and to kill anyone who got in his way. He told Steve and his friend of the volunteers that Hydra had, how they’d screamed when the injection took hold. The ones that survived were stronger, faster, smarter than he was. He knew, even then, that they were better than him, and soon he would be obsolete. At the time, he’d accepted his death with the cold indifference with which he accepted everything else, and now he couldn’t help but think it might have been better for them to decommission him at that time. 

But the scientists had not been as thorough as they were when they made him. These soldiers, while better in every other way, were not as compliant with instructions. They retained too much of themselves, and discovered quickly that they could rebel. The scientists weren’t always able to control them, and they ended up going rogue. Bucky was told to get a man out of there, and he did, locking the heavy iron prison behind them and not caring what end met those that were left behind. He did not know what happened to the other soldiers after that, as the machine and the cold room were moved to someplace in Canada. Bucky had not been back to Siberia since then. 

“Who were they?” Steve asked. God, he forgot how many questions this idiot always had. He knew he was just gathering intel, but Bucky was tired, and hurt, and he just wanted to put this behind him. But he knew he had to tell him everything, had to make sure that somehow he was able to right the wrongs caused by his weakness. No one knew as much as he did, and no one except for him and Steve could take down the other soldiers if they were awoken. 

“Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in Hydra history.” Bucky explained. They were able to do bigger jobs than he ever was alone, and after he was tasked with training them, that would likely be his ending. He was the older model. “And that was before the serum.” The serum had amplified everything bad about them, making them wild and unmanageable.

“They all turn out like you?” the friend asked, once again his tone betraying his annoyance at the situation. Brat.

“Worse.” Bucky said shortly, sparing him an unamused glare. Steve seemed to sense the tension between them, and cut it off.

“The doctor, could he control them?” he asked, as if he knew how unstable they were. Before serum, they’d been on the verge of rebellion. Afterwards, they were filled to the brim with anger and violence, and were willing to lend their talents to the strongest commanding officer, the one that had the biggest job for them. They could smell weakness, and exploit it. 

“Enough.” Bucky replied, looking down at his hands. No matter how strong or fast or cunning he was, he could never keep up with all five of them. No one could. But they had to try, right? He thought of Mika again, a memory of the two of them holding hands as they walked back from...somewhere coming to him. He couldn’t take a chance of the death squad finding her. Even if they did not remember him, even if they had no idea who she was, he could not risk them being in the same world as her.

“He said he wanted to see an empire fall.” Steve said. Yes, Bucky remembered that part. He’d said it with such confidence, such conviction. He hadn’t known then what it meant, and he didn’t know now. But that didn’t matter.

“With these guys, he could do it.” he said, and out of all the information he was giving them, he was most certain about that. They did not seem to understand the gravity of this situation. If the asshole were to find them, activate them, release them, there’s no telling the chaos he could create. “They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight...infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night, and you’d never see it coming.”

That seemed to get their attention, and Steve’s friend gestured for Steve to step out of the room so they could discuss. Bucky sat, running his metal thumb over his palm, the bite of it helping to ground him. The Soldier didn’t feel pain, but he did. He could feel his bones trying to knit themselves back together, and he estimated about six hours until he would be back functioning at one hundred percent. He knew what he had to do, it was just a matter of waiting until they got on board with him.

They all stopped as the squeak of a far away door echoed through the huge, empty room, Steve and his friend appearing just as on edge as he felt. But they didn’t hear the tell-tale clicks of guns and armor, or the dull  _ thud _ of issued rubber boots. No, instead they heard the sound of leather-soled boots as someone tried (and failed) to move quickly and quietly. He knew those steps, but didn’t believe what his ears were telling him. There was no way she could be here, no way she  _ should _ be here-

“Who the hell is that?” the friend said, his posture changing as he readied for a fight. Steve also stood straighter, his hands flexing, and Bucky stood quickly despite all his aches and pains. His heart had started beating again, hard and fast against his fractured sternum. If he were alone, he would think he was hallucinating, but clearly the other two men heard it as well.

“Don’t hurt her.” Bucky said, catching himself against whatever it was that was holding him earlier. He could explain everything to them if they wanted, but he had to be sure of that first. Both of them turned to him, alarmed and confused. “She’s...please. Leave her be.”

“Who are you-” Steve started to say, but the footsteps sounded too near. He stopped himself midsentence, stepping back and letting Bucky limp towards the opening. Mika rounded the corner, her expression frantic as she scanned the room. She looked like a massive weight was removed from her as her eyes settled on his, and she ran across the room to launch herself into his arms. The hit hurt very badly, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his right arm around her, holding her close and letting the scent of her hair and the feel of her skin against his help bring back the good memories. He had accepted never seeing her again and knew he should let go, knew he should send her back to Romania, but he just couldn’t. She was crying into his shoulder, her words running together as she babbled into the cloth of his shirt. It took a moment for his brain to remember the other language, his thoughts running in circles as he tried to translate and eventually understood. She pulled back, her hands going to his cheeks as she took in his appearance.

“You’re hurt.” she said shortly. It wasn’t a question, and he wondered what was on his face that told her that. She was right, of course, but she didn’t need to know it.

“I’m alright.” he said, his own throat tight with emotion. Even if he didn’t remember every minute of their relationship together right now, he still remembered how strongly he cared for her, still knew that he would move heaven and earth for her, if she asked.

“You’re not alright.” she said, once again seeing right through his facade. How could she always do that? 

“Okay seriously, who-” Steve’s friend cut in, and Mika’s eyes flew to him. With a strength that he was rather proud of, she shoved Bucky behind her, putting herself between him and the two other men. Again, he almost wanted to laugh;  _ she _ was planning to protect  _ him _ ? Steve and the other guy changed their stance at her quick movements, not expecting any aggression from the pretty girl.

“Did you do this to him?!” she asked in Romanian, pointing an accusatory finger at them. They held their hands up, not understanding what she was asking. “I swear, if you hurt even one hair on his head-” she started to march towards them, but Bucky caught her around the waist, ignoring the pain in his body as he held her back.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, or how you found us-” Steve’s friend was obviously fed up, but Steve held a hand out in front of him, and he stopped himself with an angry huff. His eyes said he had more to say, but he kept his mouth shut. 

“They’re friends. It’s okay.” Bucky said in English, letting go of her once she stopped struggling against his hold. She was still eyeing the other two warily, waiting for them to make a move. Did she think she could take them in a fight? No. But she would fight tooth and nail when it came to Bucky. Steve took a step forward, his hands still raised in a symbol of peace.

“I’m Steve, this is Sam.” Ah, so his friend  _ did _ have a name. “And you are?” 

“Mika.” she said. Even if she knew who they were in theory (thanks to SHIELD documents) and knew they were supposed to be good guys, clearly something was going on. She didn’t know how much information Bucky had given them, or how much he  _ wanted _ to give them. And she didn’t know how much she could get from them. Did they know who was looking for them? Or what they were saying?

“How did you find us?” he asked, his authority voice out again. Seems he was all business nowadays. Mika pulled her phone out of her pocket, showing a map with little blue and green blinking dots right next to each other. Bucky’s hand fell to his pocket, feeling the familiar shape of his phone. How had it survived everything?

“Find My Friends.” she said. As an aside, she added to Bucky in Romanian, “Told you the life-proof case was worth it.”

“Yes, yes, you’re always right.” he muttered back. The gravity of everything settled on him, and he gently put his hand on her back. “Mika, you can’t be here. It’s too dangerous. You have to go back home.”

“Absolutely not. I belong right here with you.” she said sharply, and he almost believed her. But she needed to be safe, and anywhere near him was not safe. She looked like she had something to add, but Sam interrupted her.

“Uh uh, I don’t like this.” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “No secret conversations here.”

“Right, sorry, it’s a…” she paused, snapping her fingers and trying to remember the word in English she wanted. She turned to Bucky, muttering it real quick in Romanian. 

“Habit.” he said so that the other two could understand. Seemed she was a little rusty on the language. 

“Yes, a habit.” she said. The other men were still staring at her with vague confusion, but she didn’t care. Whether they understood or not didn’t matter to her. “So what happened? What’s the plan now?” 

“No. Absolutely not.” Sam said, and while Bucky hadn’t gotten the best first impression from him, he agreed with his statement. He couldn’t risk Mika getting hurt. 

“Absolutely yes.” she said vehemently, and Bucky touched her arm again, garnering her attention. 

“We need to get you somewhere safe.” he said, and she looked at him for a long time. He idly wondered again if she could read minds. 

“I have a safe place for us.” she replied, meaning just the two of them. Bucky glanced at Steve and Sam, who were waiting for his response.

“I can’t leave them. There’s something...something I must do. Something I need to take care of.” he said quietly. They were already wasting too much time; there was no telling how close the asshole was to waking the other soldiers, or what exactly he planned to do with them. They had to stop him, before Bucky could cause any more damage than had already been done.

“They’re friends?” she asked, tilting her head towards Steve and Sam. He glanced their direction to find Steve staring confidently at them, and Sam looking like he’d just taken a bite of something unpleasant.

“Yes. They’re friends.” he replied. Perhaps they didn’t know each other like they once did, but that didn’t matter when someone was about to unleash hell.  _ The enemy of my enemy is my friend _ . 

“Then I have a place for all of us.” she said, pulling her phone out again and stepping away from him. All three men wondered who she was calling, but only Bucky was able to put the pieces together.

“No, don’t-” he started, but Mika stopped him with her hand on his chest.

“It’ll be alright, I promise. You know she would be angry if we didn’t.” she said, turning away as her sister picked up the phone. 

“Buck, we can’t involve civilians in this.” Steve said quietly. Sam hung back, his eyes periodically flicking over each of them. Bucky nodded.

“I know.” he replied. He knew where they were going, and what waited for them there. And he knew Mika could not go with them. “What’s the plan?”

“Sam knows someone that can help us. I have a few reinforcements up my sleeve as well.” Steve said. Sam crossed his arms and watched Mika, as if he could understand any of the conversation she was having. 

“Who is she talking to?” he asked, not looking away from her. Bucky didn’t like that look. It wasn’t cold, but it was certainly calculating. 

“Her sister. She lives here in Berlin.” Bucky explained. More pieces were falling into place now, the longer he was out of the ice. Steve shook his head.

“We can’t involve anyone else.” he said, and once again Bucky agreed. He didn’t even want Mika involved in this, let alone Nicoletta. 

“We’ll just make sure Mika makes it to her, then we’ll be on our way.” he said. Once she was safe, then they could go to Siberia. Steve nodded, but Sam looked hesitant, and Bucky wondered if he was that quick to trust Mika. He glanced across the room, and his heart swelled at the sight of her, even if she was just talking quietly on the phone. Yes, he could see now how she could easily be trusted, he just hadn’t expected Sam to do so. She finished her conversation, coming back to them.

“Nicoletta is expecting us. She recently moved, so her address is still listed in the city. Plus it seems her renting situation is a little...what’s the phrase...below the table?” she said, once again trying to get her English correct. The statement wasn’t entirely perfect, but they knew what she was trying to say. 

“We can’t ask Nicoletta for help.” Bucky said, shaking his head. Mika looked affronted.

“We most certainly can. No offense, but you all look a mess. And I think a night of rest will do you good for what you have to do tomorrow.” she said, crossing her arms. Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Stubborn girl.” he muttered, and she pinched the back of his arm in retaliation. 

“Well I’m  _ your _ stubborn girl.” she said in Romanian before remembering that she was supposed to be speaking English. “Somebody has to look out for you.”

“Sounds familiar.” Steve said, one corner of his mouth quirking up with a smile. He heaved a sigh before getting his phone from his pocket. Sam looked between the two of them, trying to figure out what he’d missed.

“Wait, what’s going on now?” he asked. He liked to be informed, Bucky could admire that. 

“I’m seeing if we can get our gear. We’re gonna need it.” Steve replied, putting his phone to his ear and turning away. Sam still didn’t look happy, but he could recognize when he was losing a battle. He took one look between Mika and Bucky before stepping away with Steve, giving them a moment alone. 

“Are you okay? Really?” Mika asked, putting her hands on his shoulders. Now that she was with him, she was absolutely exhausted from her worry. She was so afraid that he would be lost - or worse. But he was here in front of her, in one piece and still breathing. His eyes dropped to her shoes, and he showed the vulnerability that he’d been hiding from Steve and Sam.

“No.” he answered honestly, and took a deep breath. Yep, those ribs were still very broken. “Everything is still blank...but I’ve been through worse.” 

She put her hands on his cheeks, tears forming in her eyes again. “I’m so sorry this happened, Bucky.” she said, and he breathed a laugh that wasn’t humorous.

“I should be apologizing to you. I can’t ask you to stay and help, Mika, this is too much.” he said. His heart ached to see her so worried over him. He wasn’t worth this, especially not after today. 

“You don’t have to. I’m here, and we’re going to get through this together.” she said, laying her forehead against his. Before he could reply, she continued, “And don’t even say no. You know damn well you would do this for me. So I’m here to help, danger be damned. Besides, you left earlier when I had something very important to tell you.”

He tried to remember the conversation earlier, but it was still foggy. “And what’s that?” he asked. She smiled, but before she could respond, Steve interrupted them.

“Do you have a car?” he asked, and Bucky felt he was right in being annoyed at the disruption. Out of everything that went wrong today, he needed something to go right.

“Uh, yes. I do.” she said, confused as to why he was asking.

“Good. We’re going to need it.” he said, his voice commanding. Mika raised her eyebrows.

“‘Please’?” she asked, as if she were chastising a child. Sam and Steve both stared at her, and Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. If she was nervous around these super soldiers, she definitely wasn’t showing it. 

“Right. Can we please borrow your car?” Steve remedied, his tone much more gentle this time around. Mika smiled.

“Yes, you can.” she said, pulling her keys from her pocket. “It’s a few blocks over from here.”

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of her, consumed by his need to protect her. God, he loved her so much, and he deserved exactly none of her love in return. He still wondered if he was hallucinating, or if perhaps Mika was his guardian angel. At this point, that seemed the most logical answer, because even if he loved her, he hated himself right now. How she could stand all of this, he’d never know. 

But he wasn’t about to question it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright lads, this is the last chapter i have saved up, so updates unfortunately won't be daily anymore :( however, they will be weekly! i do my best to update every sunday (US time), life willing!
> 
> also, if you do the tumblr thing, you can find me under the username whindsor!


	41. Stubborn Love

The car ride was quiet, and tremendously awkward. Whoever they were supposed to meeting would not be ready until tomorrow, which meant they had to deal with a long night before...whatever was happening. Steve insisted on driving, even though he had no idea where he was going. Sam sat in the front seat, looking at the horizon and occasionally sending a glare via the rearview mirror to the two in back. Bucky and Mika sat cramped in the back seat, a place not built for anyone bigger than a toddler. But she couldn’t find it in herself to care, just happy to be back next to Bucky. He kept his metal arm draped across the back of the seat, trying to create a little more space in the tight area. He still didn’t trust himself to be next to her, was still afraid that his brain would betray him at any moment. Even with her beside him, he still felt nothing but the cold numbness associated with the ultimate disappointment in himself. She seemed to sense this, reaching across to take his hand and interlace their fingers. Today was one of the scariest days in her life, and she was not about to let go. 

Mika gave Steve directions, her accented voice easily sounding over the pop radio station playing songs none of them knew. She couldn’t understand any of them, but she knew Bucky could, and based on the odd looks Steve gave the radio at times, he could as well. At one point, he reached over and turned it up, the bubbly voice of a woman echoing around the tiny car. Mika had no idea what she was saying, but she occasionally heard the words “Captain America” or “Winter Soldier,” so she knew at least what they were talking about. Steve and Bucky were both very serious for a moment, the other two looking between them as they waited for an explanation. They sat, tense, as the woman babbled for upwards of two of the longest minutes of their lives, Sam and Mika holding their breath and feeling quite out of the loop.

Then, Steve let out a snort of laughter, and Bucky’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “What?” Sam asked, looking between the two. Steve held up a finger, listening further as the woman’s voice rose in pitch and volume as she argued with her co-host. He didn’t answer until music started playing again, an old American love song crooning through the speakers as Steve shook with laughter and Bucky leaned his head against the headrest and heaved a sigh. “What’s going on?” Sam asked again, a little more emphatically this time.

“Apparently the radio girl thinks it’s very romantic, what’s going on.” Bucky deadpanned, since Steve couldn’t get any words through the laughs. Sam looked at him for a long moment, trying to decide if he was joking or not. Mika felt like telling him that when Bucky was being funny, it was much more obvious, but decided to keep her comment to herself.

“Romantic.” he finally said, disbelief coloring his tone. Steve finally collected himself enough to say,

“Apparently she’s very upset that they won’t let us just retire and be old together.” he explained, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. The love song still played, and felt even louder now. Mika bit back a giggle, but Bucky looked so annoyed that she was quickly losing her resolve.

“Oh, God.” Sam said, rolling his eyes. The bridge of the song played, emotional and strong, making Steve’s laughter return and Mika have to press her lips together to keep from joining him.

“To be fair,” she said, her voice cracking a bit in her mirth. Bucky looked at her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the comment she was going to make. “Bucky was already  _ really _ old and retired.” That was enough to make Steve lose it and Sam groan in frustration.

“You had to add the ‘really’ in there, didn’t you.” Bucky said, pinching her fingers slightly. Her only response was more giggling, which joined Steve’s. Soon Sam couldn’t hold himself together any longer, shaking his head as he started laughing as well. Only Bucky kept it reigned in, though one corner of his mouth was lifted in a smile that he was trying to hide.

“God,” Sam said as the laughter finally quieted down. “This really is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done, huh?”

“Oh, by far.” Steve agreed, his posture finally relaxing into the tiny driver’s seat. It was funny for Mika to watch him, because so many of his mannerisms reminded her of Bucky. Even if he didn’t quite remember the way it used to be, and even if Bucky felt like he was a completely different person now, it was obvious that they’d been close at one point, as close as brothers. She found herself hoping that they could achieve that again. 

Darkness had already fallen by the time they pulled into Nicoletta’s drive, following the winding gravel road to the little cottage. Lights shone through the windows, spilling out into the night like a beacon of hope and safety. Mika hated to do this, hated to bring her sister into this, but it was the only option they had. Tomorrow the other people would arrive, and then it would be off to...wherever they were going. They’d been sparse on the details, and she hadn’t had a chance to sit down with Bucky and find out what really happened. They were barely out of the car before Nicoletta came running out the front door, tears streaming down her cheeks almost as fast as the words coming out of her mouth. She ran right past Sam to jump into Bucky’s arms, not noticing the look of surprise on his face as she held him tightly.

“Oh my God, are you okay? I’ve been so worried, I thought you were going to get back  _ hours _ ago!” she rambled in Romanian, her voice an octave higher than usual. She pulled back, running her hands over his cheek and looking at him much too intensely. “You’re hurt! And you look tired. Oh my God, you must be starving. Come on, come inside. The food’s almost ready and there’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“Okay, who is this now?” Sam asked, alerting Nicoletta to his presence. She audibly squeaked, pulling back from Bucky and trying to hide how startled she was at the interruption. Mika stepped around the car, putting a protective arm around her shoulders.

“This is my younger sister. Who’s helping us despite the severity of the situation.” she said, levelling him with a stern gaze. Even if Sam was on their side, thus far he’d shown an attitude towards Bucky that she did not appreciate, and she was not going to allow that attitude to carry over to her sister. He perked an eyebrow at her tone, but before he could say something biting in return, Nicoletta patted her stomach and stepped out from under her arm.

“That’s alright, Mika. You’ve all had a terrible day, it’s understandable.” she said, giving them a brilliant smile. Sam and Steve both grinned in return, giving in to their instinct to view her as kind and harmless. “I’m Nicoletta.”

“I’m Sam, this is Steve.” he introduced them, and Mika noticed his demeanor had changed drastically. She sent a warning glare his way, which he dutifully ignored.

“Thank you. For giving us a place to stay tonight.” Steve added, making sure at least one of them remembered their manners and making Nicoletta’s smile grow even wider.

“We should go inside.” Bucky murmured to her, making her clap her hands together and turn as she tried to look at everyone at once.

“Right, yes, well the house is a bit of a mess, I hope you don’t mind.” she said with a grimace, gesturing for them to follow her. They filed into the cottage one by one, Bucky, Sam, and Steve all taking one last cursory glance before ducking in the door. The cottage was small but warm, and they could smell whatever delicious food was cooking away in the kitchen. She turned to Mika and Bucky, “You two can share the art room, then someone can take the couch and someone can share my bed.”

“Nicoletta.” Mika said shortly, and the younger woman looked at her innocently.

“What? We’re all adults here.” she said in Romanian, an impish grin on her face. Mika opened her mouth to retaliate, but she was cut off by her sister addressing the group again. “Why don’t you all go get cleaned up, food will be ready by the time you’re done.”

“Yes, thank you. Again.” Steve said, showing a gentler side of himself than they’d seen thus far. He and Sam headed in the direction she pointed them in and Bucky moved towards the art room she’d mentioned earlier, but Mika didn’t move. Instead, she went to her sister and hugged her tightly. Whatever ire she’d had earlier about the sharing-the-bed comment melted away, and she was suddenly so glad to have her so close.

“Thank you, Nicoletta. I’m so sorry about all of this.” she said softly. Her sister hugged her back just as hard, her voice muffled by Mika’s chest as she said,

“No worries, my love. That’s what family’s for.” She rubbed Mika’s back in a soothing manner before tugging away. “Now, go tend to Bucky. I’ve got to finish cooking.”

“You’re an angel.” Mika said, kissing her cheek. Nicoletta dramatically wiped her skin, throwing her sister a wink as she turned to go back into the kitchen. Mika noticed Bucky waiting for her, leaning against the door to the aforementioned room. She went and took his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly. “Are you alright?”

“No.” he admitted. He wanted to lie, wanted to be the strong and sure person that she knew him to be. But she also knew him to be honest, and there was no way he could hide his feelings from her. She deserved better than that. She gave him a sad smile before tugging him into the room. 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” she said. Nicoletta’s art room was aptly named, as every surface and cranny was filled with paints and pencils and brushes and canvases, with piles of sketches underneath it all. It had the appearance of a room once meticulously organized, but had since dissolved into chaos.  _ Josephine, _ Mika’s favorite painting, was displayed proudly on the wall above the daybed tucked into the corner. Once the door was closed behind them, Bucky stopped, letting Mika’s hand fall from his.

“You don’t have to do this.” he said softly, defeated. She gave him a confused look, almost wondering if she’d misunderstood him.

“Of course I don’t. But I want to.” she replied. She didn’t like the vibe he was giving off - it was usually one she got right before a break up. She crossed her arms over her chest, licking her lips and trying to bolster her courage. She finally asked, “Is this because of what happened today?”

“Yes.” he replied. He’d mentioned that most of the day was blank, meaning he didn’t remember her meeting with the Winter Soldier. Part of her selfishly wished he never would; she didn’t hold it against him, but she knew that he would hold it against himself.

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” she said certainly. Part of her knew he wouldn’t believe her, but she had to say it anyways. He shook his head, and she stepped closer to him. “It wasn’t. It  _ wasn’t _ . You didn’t do what they say you did. You are not who they say you are.”

“But I am. I still am. I always will be.” he said. Now he knew, no matter how much time passed, no matter where he went or what he did, Hydra would always have their claws sunk into his head. No place - and no one - was safe. He sounded so utterly crushed that her heart nearly broke. 

“No, you’re not.” she said, stepping up to him and putting her hands on his cheeks. “I know you. You are sweet, and smart, and caring, and strong-”

“Not strong enough.” he interrupted. This was the point that both their stubborness would get them into trouble. He didn’t see the man he’d become, and she didn’t see the danger in him. He raised his hands to her wrists to pull them away, but she held onto him steadfastly.

“Bucky, we’re going to get through this.” she said, including herself in no uncertain terms. He shook his head again.

“The things I’ve done, the things I have to do now...I can’t take you with me.” he said, and before she could answer, he added, “And it would be safer for you if I didn’t come back.”

“Did you mean what you said this morning?” she countered. He’d remembered their morning halfway through the car ride here, remembered her dancing around her kitchen and remembered his last words to her before he went to what he was certain was his death. 

“Yes. I did. And I still do.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “Which is why I can’t put you into any more danger.”   


“And I get no say in the matter?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. His eyes searched her face, wondering what on earth he did so  _ right _ to earn her loyalty like this. That’s when he noticed the shadows on her neck. He thought he was imagining things, his hand lightly brushing her hair away. She closed her eyes and winced as he did so, not in pain, but because she knew that this was not going to help her case. She didn’t see as his gaze sharpened, but she could feel it as he lightly touched his fingertips to her skin. The memory came to him then, the vision of her face turning red and her fingers scrambling as she tried to escape his hold. She could barely choke out his name because he was gripping her neck so tight. 

“Fuck!” he exclaimed in English, practically jumping away from her as the memory surface. She didn’t move, she just opened her eyes and looked at him sadly, her mouth open even though she couldn’t think of what to say. He was so startled, he didn’t think to speak in Romanian again, instead speaking with his native language. “Mika, how can you - I - I could have killed you!”

“But you didn’t!” she said in Romanian, wincing immediately because that was not what she wanted to say, and that was certainly not the right thing to say. Bucky lost any sense of calm he had, pacing around the small room with his hands in his hair. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this panicked, and this ashamed. “Bucky, listen-”

“No, no. I can’t - you almost died, and it would have been entirely my fault. How can you be here with me? Fuck, how can you even look at me after what I did to you?” he asked. He felt rattled to his bones, and couldn’t decide if his insides were frozen or on fire or completely liquefied. 

“Because that wasn’t you!” she exclaimed, as if the answer were obvious. She still spoke in Romanian, not thinking she could make her point otherwise. He scoffed, his eyes rolling skyward.

“Yes, it was.” he replied. It was him. It was always him. Even if he didn’t want to, even if he couldn’t control it, it was still him who did it.

“No, it wasn’t.” she said fervently, stepping up to him. “Bucky, I know that you would never hurt me-”

“I already have!” he pointed out, gesturing at her hip. This time, it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“That wasn’t  _ hurting me _ . Do you want me to tell you about all the bruises I’ve gotten from sex? Cause I will, if it will help you feel better.” she said. She didn’t want to be so crude, but she also didn’t want to see him beat himself up over something so trivial. He let out a noise of frustration.

“You’re not understanding. Mika, I am a  _ killer _ . No matter what I do or don’t do, I can do nothing but kill and destroy. I thought I could escape it, but today...today showed that I never will. And that will do nothing but harm you.” he said, his voice cracking at the end. He felt so raw, so broken, as he laid out his deepest fear here in front of her. “I could have really hurt you today. Killed you. And that would have ended me.”

“And you’re not understanding either.” she argued. “I’m not afraid of you. Even after today. The person I fought earlier? It didn’t even  _ look _ like you.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” he said, his pacing finally still. She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to come up with something, anything, that would make him understand her side. She knew where he was coming from, she really did, but she still felt nothing in her heart for him except for love.

“Take off your shirt.” she said, a last ditch idea coming to mind. She’d hoped his healing was not too fast, and that she could still make her point. Otherwise, she didn’t know how she was going to convince him that she was here for the long haul.

“What?” he asked, the question enough to distract him momentarily from his panic. Was she thinking about…? “Mika, this isn’t the time for-”   
  
“I’m not trying to seduce you, I’m trying to make a point.” she said, stomping her foot for good measure. Bucky eyed her for a long time before reaching up to pull his shirt off, his right shoulder screaming at him as he did so. He vaguely knew he had dislocated and reduced it, but he couldn’t remember the context yet. His ribs and sternum were still broken, but were starting to knit back together. There, on his chest, was a horseshoe shaped bruise.

“I got into a fight. I know that.” he said, even if the details were still fuzzy. She reached down and untied her boot, pulling it off her foot and holding it up to his chest. The heel of it matched the bruise perfectly, the sole lining up with the fracture in his sternum. Huh. So that’s how that got there.

“And how does that shoulder feel?” she asked lowly. How did she know…? Unless…ah, yes. That’s right, she’d twisted it out of the socket. Exactly as he’d shown her to do. “You’re looking at this the wrong way. You see it as you hurt me. But I see it as you protected me. I never could have protected myself if it weren’t for you, if it weren’t for everything that you taught me.”

“But if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there to begin with.” he said. He still had to fight her on this, because he was still a danger to her. He didn’t care if her argument made sense; his did too.

“You didn’t make me get on a plane and come here. In fact, you told me to stay behind, remember? Even then, you were trying to protect me.” she said, dropping her shoe to the side. She gently touched the bruise on his chest, which was much more tender than he cared to admit. She’d kicked him hard - really hard. And even amongst the panic and disappointment in his heart, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of her too. “Are you afraid of me? Or mad at me? Does this make you want to leave me?”

“No.” he said. The idea was absurd. She gave him a pointed look, and he realized what she was trying to say. And that he’d unwittingly agreed to her point. 

“Bucky, this morning you came home and said they’d found you. Then you said you loved me, and left me behind before I could say that I love you too. And then I had to listen to a billion gunshots outside of my apartment and wonder if you were dead or alive. And  _ then _ I got to watch on the news as they arrested you for something you didn’t do.” she was rambling, she knew, but she didn’t care. She needed him to see, needed him to understand. “I’m not afraid of bruises, Bucky. I’m afraid of losing you.”

He was silent for a long time, and she didn’t dare move or breathe as the wheels turned in his mind. “This isn’t something I’m just going to be able to get over.”

“I’m not asking you to.” she said. She knew that, just like everything else, this would take time. She didn’t mind that. “I’m asking you not to give up on yourself, or me, or us, because of something that was out of your control.”

She put her hands on his shoulders, and this time he let her. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold her close, but the memories were still too close to the surface, so instead he simply leaned his forehead against hers. He could still feel her pulse under his hand, strong and frantic as she tried to escape the Soldier. He was unbelievably proud of her, but he was also still unbelievably disappointed in himself. She’d won the discussion today, but she wouldn’t win it tomorrow. He didn’t know what was waiting for them in Siberia, but he knew he was  _ not _ going to risk taking Mika there. 

“I can’t take you tomorrow.” he whispered. “What could be waiting for us...it’s too dangerous. This time, Mika, I need you to stay here. But if…” he wanted to say  _ if I survive _ , but knew that would not go over well. He changed his sentence midway through it. “If you want me to, then I will come back to you.”

“I do. I want you to.” she said fervently. Somehow,  _ now _ she understood the gravity of what was coming. And even if last time he said he would come back, this time it actually sounded true. She bit her lip then. “Can I kiss you?”

“Just once.” he said, quirking up one corner of his mouth. He tried to say it lightly, but it was still true. He didn’t trust himself around her, not yet. She leaned forward just enough to press her mouth to his, and the act was so sweet and so simple that for a brief moment, he was able to forget the hell he’d endured the rest of the day. One little kiss was enough to convince him that maybe, just maybe, they could come back from this. 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. I’m sure supper is almost ready.” she said, tenderly running her hand through his hair. She hated seeing him so down, but knew that he was strong enough to pick himself back up - and she’d be right there beside him to help. He let her lead him to the bathroom, sitting on the commode as she dug around for a rag that wasn’t covered in paint or charcoal. The sink was also a kaleidoscope of colors, where Nicoletta clearly rinsed out her brushes and paint cups. She finally found a clean towel, wetting the edge of it and carefully scrubbing away the dried blood on his forehead. He sat perfectly still, letting her clean away the evidence of his sins and wishing he could scrub them from his heart too. 

“Thank you.” he said quietly as she continued to gently clean his rapidly healing wounds. She responded by kissing the spot on his forehead that was previously bleeding from...oh shit. He’d been thrown into a helicopter windshield. Her lips barely ghosted over the tender spot, which was no longer bleeding but definitely still sore. 

“Are you going to tell me where you’re going tomorrow?” she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral and failing miserably. She doubted she’d be able to sleep tonight with how worried she was about him.

“Plausible deniability.” he said, not looking up at her. Her hands hesitated for a moment before she resumed her task.

“Are you going alone?” she asked, her voice softer. She was afraid of the answer, and held her breath until he said,

“No. Steve is going with me.” he said, and she felt like an elephant was removed from her chest. Knowing that he would have someone there - someone who could actually help - gave her a little more hope that things would turn out alright. Her throat was tight, so she simply nodded, focusing on her task at hand.

“This is the last of it.” she said as she scrubbed one last spot. Nicoletta called to them from the door, letting them know supper was ready and to head on out as soon as they could. 

“I don’t have a clean shirt.” he said as she wiped the last of the blood away. She paused, her fingers wringing the towel out under the tap as she thought what to do.

“What, don’t feel like eating supper shirtless?” she asked, trying to buy herself some time. He grinned, letting out a breath of a laugh that wasn’t entirely humorous.

“Full of shit.” he said, shaking his head. She dried her hands on another towel before going to unbutton the shirt she was wearing, his eyebrows lifting at her actions. “I thought we agreed-”

“This is your shirt, dumbass.” she said, grinning as she finished unbuttoning it. He dropped his eyes as she slipped it off, handing it to him and asking, “I thought you didn’t mind nudity?”

“Don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he said, taking the shirt from her. Before he could put it on, she put her hands on his face, dragging his eyes up to hers.

“Does it look like I’m uncomfortable?” she asked with a perked brow, a challenge in her eyes. She knew it would be a long time before he was ready for anything physical again, but she wasn’t going to shy away from him. One corner of his mouth lifted, and he shook his head.

“No.” he replied. She smiled, kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair.

“Good. Now let’s go, I’m starving, so I know you must be too.” she said, going to dig in her bag until she found another shirt, pulling it on as he opened the door to the rest of the house. Sam and Steve were already sitting at the table with plates of food, adamantly pretending that they weren’t paying attention to them. Bucky and Mika joined Nicoletta in the kitchen, the former taking an extremely full plate from her and joining the others at the table.

“Everything alright?” Nicoletta asked quietly in Romanian as Mika served herself. Mika tried not to blush, but could feel the heat in her cheeks.

“How much could you all hear?” she replied, knowing the answer. The walls weren’t that thick around here.

“Not the whole thing...but a good chunk of it. Luckily those two could only understand his half of it.” she said, nodding her head towards the men at the table. Mika let out a breath; she didn’t mind if her sister heard the conversation, she was probably going to tell her all about it later anyway. “Sounds like it worked out though.”

“For now. I’m afraid the hardest part isn’t over yet.” she said, finally finishing filling her plate and going to the table to take a seat next to Bucky. She looked up at Steve and Sam, who looked much calmer and amiable now that they were bathed and partially fed. They both managed to give her a small smile, which bolstered her spirits a bit. She wanted to be friends with them, but she was still so protective and defensive for Bucky. She had a feeling that she and Steve were on the same side...her and Sam would just have to come to an agreement eventually. 

“So, Nicoletta,” Steve started as she sat down, his voice much more casual and less Captain-like than it had been earlier. “You’re an artist?”

“Something like that.” she said brightly, never one to boast about her skills. Mika thought that ridiculous, especially since her work was literally all over the house. It was quite obvious that she was talented.

“Not ‘something like that,’ she  _ is _ an artist.” Mika said, smiling at her sister. Nicoletta shot her a look, but before she could protest, Bucky added,

“And a damn good one.” Her cheeks tinged pink at the compliment, and she cleared her throat before turning back to Steve. 

“Are you an artist as well?” she asked, and Sam snorted into his plate, pretending that he was simply choking and not laughing at the thought. Steve gave a shy smile that did not match his commanding presence, shaking his head.

“I used to dabble, back in the day. I wouldn’t say I was an artist.” he said, digging back into his food. Bucky grinned in a way that made Mika think he had something to add, but he kept whatever it was to himself, relying on Sam to say,

“Don’t let him be modest. He’s got some skill.” He looked at the art that was adorning the walls, grinning slightly as he added, “Obviously not as good as you, but he’s alright.”

“And what about you?” she asked, giving him a sly smile. Steve turned to him with a cheeky expression.

“Yea, Sam, what about you?” he said, seemingly glad the tables turned to him. Sam didn’t seem bothered by the attention, giving them an easy shrug.

“I think my talents lie elsewhere.” he said, and Mika couldn’t help the smile at his humble brag. Nicoletta and Steve laughed, and even Bucky was amused by the comeback. Supper was much less awkward than the car ride thanks to Nicoletta’s cheerful disposition, and she was easily able to bridge the gap between the two sides of the table and make them think of something besides everything that had gone wrong that day. Mika liked to watch Steve, feeling like she was glimpsing into Bucky’s past a little bit. He still looked to his old buddy as he made jokes, expecting his reactions or his sarcastic responses. And she could see the subtle change in Bucky too, almost like he was remembering who he used to be. She would never change anything about him, but it was amazing to see him loosen up just the tiniest bit, especially given what had happened earlier. For a minute, they could just sit and eat and laugh, and let themselves relax before they returned to the stress of what was to come.

“I’ve got the dishes.” Sam declared as they all rested their silverware on the empty plates. He stood and started gathering them, despite Nicoletta’s protest.

“No, no. You’ve all had a tough day. Let me take care of you.” she said, also gathering plates and silverware. Sam shot her a look that didn’t have any heat behind it, continuing what he was doing.   
  
“Well I can at least help. And what are you doing, just sitting there? Where’s your patriotic sense of chivalry here?” he said, elbowing Steve. Steve didn’t move, instead just shooting him an innocent smile.

“Seems you’ve got it covered.” he replied, clasping his hands on the table and idly rubbing his thumbs over each other. He and Sam seemed to have a wordless conversation for a moment before Sam  _ hmph _ ed, taking the dishes to the kitchen.

“Whatever. Drying and putting up is your job.” he said, following Nicoletta back to her sink. Bucky scooted his chair back, standing up quite purposefully. Mika thought he was going to join them with the dishes, but instead he moved towards the front door.

“I’m going to check the perimeter. I’ll be back.” he said, pausing with a hand on Mika’s shoulder and looking like he was going to kiss the top of her head, but deciding against it and simply walking out of the room. They heard the door closed behind him, and then it was just her and Steve.

“He does that at home too.” she said quietly, unable to handle the silence between them. Steve nodded, licking his lips as he decided what to say.

“How is he?” he asked, and Mika thought that was quite the loaded question. She didn’t know how much he knew - or if he knew anything. Clearly, he and Bucky weren’t in contact anymore, but she didn’t know the details. 

“He’ll be alright, I think. In time.” she said, sounding a little more hopeful than she felt at that moment. “He won’t tell me where you two are going.”

“Plausible deniability.” Steve said, and she smiled as she shook her head.

“That’s what he said too.” she replied, making Steve chuckle. It seemed they were still, on some level, on the same wavelength. She picked at her nail polish - or what little she had left after the stressful day. “You’ll look out for him, won’t you?”

“Of course.” he said, so quick and so sure that she had no trouble believing him. Another similarity between the two of them. He sighed, looking over to see if Nicoletta or Sam could hear them before turning back to her. “I’ve been looking for him, for two years. Never found him.”

“But you kept looking?” she asked, surprised. One day, she wanted the full story. But she knew she wouldn’t get it today. He nodded.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. When I found out he was alive…” he paused, as if remembering something, but changed his train of thought. “He’s different than when I last saw him. Better, I think. Not completely perfect, but...better. And I think I have you to thank for taking care of him.”

“He did all the hard work. I just enabled a caffeine habit.” she said, blushing at the compliment. Steve looked at her seriously, a smile on his face.

“I think you did more than that.” he replied, pushing away from the table and standing up. “I’ll make sure he gets back to you.”

“Thank you.” she said, watching as he went to go help with the dishes. She remembered then who exactly she was talking to, and let out a long breath. She’d managed to talk to two Avengers and an Avengers associate, all in one day. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew better than to think too hard about it. She got up and pulled on her jacket, going to sit on the front porch until Bucky got back.

Tomorrow was going to be difficult, she was sure.


	42. Restless Nights

Bucky didn’t expect Mika to still be awake when he returned from checking the entirety of the surrounding area. He was nervous at first when he spotted someone sitting on the front steps, but he recognized her by the way she sat curled against the porch post, her hair fluttering in the light breeze and her fingers picking at whatever nail polish she had left. The lights were still on in the house, putting a glow behind her that once again made him feel like he was looking at his own guardian angel. She shifted as he neared, straightening up and smiling as he came to sit down beside her.

“It’s late. You should be in bed.” he murmured, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. His initial reaction was to put his arm around her, but he was still waiting for the moment when she would realize how dangerous he was. But instead of pulling away, she hugged his arm to her chest, his hand easily coming to rest on her knee.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Didn’t want to go to bed without you.” she said softly. It was clear that she was tired, her eyelids heavy and her voice quiet, but here she sat, waiting for him to return. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in the soft floral scent for the thousandth time. Part of him wondered if this was the last time he would smell it, if he would go to Siberia tomorrow and not make it back. He pushed that thought from his mind; no matter what happened, he had to come back home to her.

“I’ll be okay.” he said. He wasn’t fine now, but he had to hope he would be. Mika believed he could, and she hadn’t led him astray yet. She idly rubbed his arm, soaking in his warmth. How he always radiated so much heat, she’d never understand. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?” he whispered. He hadn’t really meant to ask the question out loud, but there it was, hanging between them in the spring night air. She’d never lied to him, but the same part of his brain that told him no one could ever love him also told him that she only said it in the heat of the argument, nothing more.

“I did. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but didn’t want to scare you off.” she said, perching her chin on his shoulder and looking up at him, her doe eyes shining in the moonlight. His heart was in his throat, and he had to clear it before he could speak again.

“Say it again.” he said. He had to hear it at least once more before he believed it. She smiled at him, scooting a little closer to him and quietly saying,

“I love you.” Her grin was contagious, and he couldn’t stop his own. 

“One more time.” he said, and she moved so she was completely against him, their faces close.

“I.” She kissed his cheek softly. “Love.” She kissed the other cheek. “You.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, pulling back much too quickly in case the affection was too much for him. He slipped his hand behind her head, pulling her back in for another, deeper kiss.

“I love you too.” he said softly, resting his forehead against hers. He still felt it would be safer for her if he didn’t come back, but damn if he didn’t wish he could just run away with her and forget everything. That wasn’t an option, of course. If that asshole was going to wake up the death squad, he had to do everything he could to stop them. For once, he hoped he didn’t die trying.

“Come on. Bed time.” she said, slowly prying herself away from him. He stayed in place, his hand falling to hers as she moved. She paused, looking at him for a moment before sighing. “You’re not coming to bed, are you?” It was technically a question, but she said it like a statement. He shook his head, looking away from her and instead staring at the gravel in front of him.

“Someone needs to keep watch.” he said, hoping that would be a good enough excuse. He should have known better than that.

“Bullshit. Steve and Sam can keep watch.” she said. Her voice was still quiet and gentle, but stern enough to leave no room for arguments. He pressed his lips together for a moment before finally admitting,

“I’m sure to have a nightmare.” He never knew how violently he moved in his sleep, he only knew of the torn sheets he often woke up to. He couldn’t bear the idea of hurting her for the third time in two days. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, and while he remembered a time that the gesture would make him uncomfortable, now it only felt warm and soothing, especially given the day they had. 

“Where will you keep watch?” she asked, her fingers still holding onto his tightly. He looked around them; the cottage only had one story, with one major road nearby. He shrugged.

“Here seems as good a place as any.” he replied. She nodded, looking over to one of the windows in the front of the house. Through the curtains, he could just see some of the paintings hanging in the art room.

“Just sit where I can see you, okay?” she asked. She looked sad that he wasn’t joining her, and to be honest he wished he could. But the risk was too big tonight. He needed to protect her, in every way. 

“Of course.” he said. She didn’t know that he wanted her within eyesight the entire time as well. She squeezed his fingers, leaning forward to kiss his head again.

“Goodnight, my love.” she said quietly, and his heart burned so hotly he thought it might burst.

“Goodnight.” he said, watching as she turned and walked into the house. It was much warmer inside than out, but still not as warm as when she got to be wrapped up in Bucky’s arms. Sam was asleep on the couch, and the light under Nicoletta’s door was dim. Steve sat at the kitchen table, his eyes on the man on the front porch. He looked to her as she walked in; she knew she should go to bed, but she paused to check in with him. She was still on the fence about Sam, but Steve? She knew she could trust him.

“Keeping watch?” Steve asked, fiddling with the empty coffee mug in front of him. Maybe that’s what made her trust him; he always seemed to be concerned about Bucky. 

“Said he’s not going to sleep tonight.” she said. She paused, a question on the tip of her tongue. “Were you there? When they found him?”

He nodded. “I got there just before they did. Tried to see if we could avoid all of this.” he said, gesturing vaguely around him. He gave a single huff of a laugh. “This must be a lot, for you.”

“I mean, I didn’t exactly plan to get interrogated by the Black Widow when I got up this morning, but shit happens.” she said with a shrug. She was sure she’d have a breakdown about all of this soon, but now was not the time. Steve raised his eyebrows.

“You met Nat?” he asked, genuinely surprised. She realized she had, in fact, forgotten to tell any of them about her brief arrest and great escape. 

“Briefly. She um, may have helped me get out of that building?” she said, her statement sounding more like a question. She still felt like she hadn’t completely participated in the conversation, and wasn’t completely sure she followed the unspoken directions the spy had given her. He lifted one corner of his mouth.

“Sounds like Nat.” he said fondly. They descended into silence, Mika still tapping against the chair in a semi-nervous state. She finally let out a breath, making her hands go still.

“Thank you for helping him today. I’ll see you in the morning.” she said, turning and going before he could respond. The day was starting to catch up with her, and she wanted nothing more than to shower and to sleep. Once she’d rinsed the day away, she crawled into the little bed in the corner, taking a look out the window to see if Bucky was still at his post. He seemed to be looking her direction, and she blew him one last kiss before turning out the light and drifting into a fitful sleep.

_ A red light flashed through the dark hallway, periodically illuminating its shadows and corners. She was alone on this floor, all the agents gone. And Bucky? Where was Bucky?  _

_ She thought she caught a glimpse of him at the end of the hallway, the metal of his arm barely glinting in the low light as someone dragged him around the corner. She didn’t dare call out to him, instead taking off into a run. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, and her feet felt like they were dragging through mud. She knew she was faster than this; why couldn’t she go faster? _

_ She finally made it to the end of the hallway, but she was still alone. Her heart hammered against her sternum as she looked at the open door leading to the stairwell. That must be where they took Bucky. Her feet were free now, and she moved so fast down the stairs she spent the whole trip down afraid she was about to fall. But that didn’t matter, she needed to catch up with them, needed to save him. _

_ She reached the ground floor, but now instead of the office building, she was in the warehouse. On the opposite side of the room, she saw the man dragging Bucky again. She tried to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. She tried to run, but she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Any time she almost caught up to them, he would disappear around the corner. Once out of sight, she could only hear his sounds of pain as they inflicted whatever torture on him. She couldn’t breathe through her fear, and felt like her blood had been replaced with cement. She had to get to him, had to save him - but how could she, when she couldn’t move? How could she save him, when she couldn’t get to him? She could barely say anything, unable to speak over her heart caught in her throat. She could only get one word out: No. No, no, no- _

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Bucky’s attention. At first he was afraid it was someone sneaking into the house, but closer inspection revealed it to be Mika tossing and turning. He watched for a moment, waiting to see if she would settle, but even through the darkness he could see her eyebrows pinching together in stress and her chest heaving as she tried to breathe. He took one last cursory glance around the front yard before standing up, quietly pushing open the front door. Sam sat awake at the kitchen table, Nicoletta across from him, and two mugs between them. She’d gotten up an hour or two before, but Bucky hadn’t been able to understand their conversation. He bypassed them and the sleeping Steve on the couch, going instead into the art room, where Mika was still tossing and turning and mumbling in her sleep. 

“Mika. Wake up.” he said, sitting down on the bed and gently shaking her shoulder. She took a sharp breath as she awoke, her eyes wide with surprise as she tried to figure out where she was and what was going on. Once she caught back up with the present, she let out a groan, covering her face with her hands.

“Fuck. What time is it?” she asked, her hand dropping to his so she could hold it. He felt his heart constrict at the tender touch, once again fighting whether to pull away or to continue to hold it. 

“Shortly after five.” he said softly, making her groan again. He pressed his lips together for a second before asking, “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yes, it was horrible.” she said, sitting up slowly. He felt his heart descend slightly.

“What was it about?” he continued, fearing what would come out of her mouth next.

“You.” she said, sending his heart directly into his shoes. But then she surprised him, draping her arms around him and squeezing him tightly. “They kept taking you away, and I kept running after you, but I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t save you.” 

He had no response. He’d fully prepared himself to hear about a nightmare with the Winter Soldier, fully expected her to dream about nearly getting killed. But no, she’d been worried about him. He put an arm around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head, unable to speak over the surge of emotions in his chest. He had to protect her at all costs, but he knew now that he also had to do everything he could to come back to her. 

“I’m okay.” he reassured her, unable to speak any louder than a whisper. She hugged him tightly again, burying her face in his neck and just breathing in the scent of him. After sitting out all night, he smelled like the clean air and trees of the country. She wished she could keep it just like this, just like this moment; for a second, she chose to pretend that he wasn’t running off somewhere to save the world, that he was just waking her up for another day. But too soon he was pulling away, his hand going to her cheek and lingering for a breath.

“Guess we might as well get up, huh?” she asked as she leaned into his touch, hoping that he would say no, hoping that he would tackle her into the bed and hold her and tell her to go back to sleep. But she knew that would not be the case.

“Might as well.” he agreed, his hand trailing down to her arm to hers. She nodded, pulling herself out from the tangle of the blankets and getting up. His eyes traced the length of her legs before he dropped his gaze, looking at his hands as she pulled on some leggings and socks. “Your sister was up when I came in.”

“What? She’s never up before the sun.” she said, shocked at this turn of events. Bucky shrugged; sure he’d never known Nicoletta to get up early, but he hadn’t known her that long.

“I suppose housing a couple super soldiers will change things.” he said, making her laugh. She opened the door, going across the dark living room to the kitchen. Steve was awake now, helping Sam at the stove with something that smelled pretty good. 

“Coffee?” he asked by way of greeting, gesturing at the French press to his left.

“Please.” Bucky said. Steve nodded, grabbing a couple more mugs and going to fill them.

“Where’s Nicoletta? Bucky said she was awake. I didn’t believe it.” Mika asked, taking one mug gratefully and going to put sugar and milk in it.

“Nicky? She mentioned something about a shower.” Sam said without looking at her,  focusing instead on scrambling some eggs. Mika paused the stirring of her coffee.

“‘Nicky’?” she asked, the name feeling foreign to her. Sam gave her a confused look.

“Yea. Nicky. Your sister.” he responded, not sure why she was reacting the way she was.

“Her name is Nicoletta.” she said. Next to her, Bucky and Steve were trying very hard to pretend like they were working on something and certainly not laughing at this interaction. 

“I know. It’s just a nickname.” he explained slowly, his tone making Mika bristle even more. 

“You haven’t known her long enough for a nickname.” she said, her overprotectiveness coming out. Not even Bucky had given her a nickname yet. Sam shrugged.

“Circumstances I guess.” he said by way of explanation, not knowing how else to handle it. He kept looking to Bucky and Steve for help, and they kept avoiding his gaze.

“They were up most of the night talking. That might have helped.” Steve said lowly, making the whole kitchen stop moving. Sam looked like he was about to offer an excuse, but Mika ignored him, turning on her heel and stomping across the house.

“Nicoletta!” she yelled, her voice even louder in the early morning hour. They could hear Nicoletta respond to her in Romanian, her voice light and teasing as if she knew it would piss Mika off more.

“What did I do?” Sam asked, looking once again at Steve and Bucky.

“She’s, uh, very protective of her.” he explained, going to help find plates and bowls for the food. 

“Told you you’d get in trouble.” Steve added. Across the house, they could hear the girls yelling at each other. Eavesdropping wouldn’t help, considering they didn’t speak the language, but that couldn’t stop them from finding other routes.

“What’re they saying?” Sam asked as Bucky laughed at something going on in the other room.

“Sure you wanna know?” he asked in return, perking an eyebrow. Sure, the argument wasn’t really that bad, but this guy just invited him to mess with him. 

“C’mon, man.” he said in a tired tone. Bucky bit back a grin, looking at Steve.

“I’m curious too.” Steve said. Dammit, no help from him. Bucky sighed, listening to the conversation in the other room.

“Mika’s saying it’s too dangerous, Nicoletta says that it’s not a big deal.” he translated loosely. Steve gave a huff of a laugh, almost as if he agreed, but Sam made a face that said he didn’t. He stayed quiet, though, waiting for the next lines. Bucky laughed at the next piece. “She says you’re too old for her.”

“Me? You’re like, a hundred!” Sam said, indignant. He was  _ not _ old, thank you very much.

“Don’t worry, Nicoletta made that point.” he sighed. He felt a jolt go through him as the conversation turned, and the shock must have registered on his face, because both Sam and Steve looked at him with curious and expectant faces. “Nope, not translating where they’ve gone to now.”

“Seriously?” Sam asked, once again indignant. Bucky shrugged; he didn’t care how curious they were, the conversation had turned very  _ personal _ and he was not about to share that.

“I’ll let them tell you if they want.” he said, going to plate the food as the sisters finally came back in the kitchen, looking a little salty but overall back in good graces. Nicoletta gave them a bright smile, going and kissing Bucky’s cheek before looking at the food.

“Oh good, it’s all ready! I’m starving.” she said, picking up a plate and going to the table as if she and her sister hadn’t been screaming at each other moments before. The boys all looked at each other for a moment and decided collectively not to comment, instead joining her with their own food. It was tense for a few minutes, but the tension melted away as they all tried to pretend that it wasn’t an extremely odd and terrifying situation surrounding them. The sun was just coming up over the horizon when Steve’s phone buzzed. Everyone grew quiet as he picked it up and stepped away from the table, the air changing as they realized this little bubble of normal was about to pop.

“That was Sharon. We’ve got to go meet her now if we want our gear.” he said, coming back into the kitchen and crossing his arms. He was going back into Captain mode, and the rest would have to follow suit. Sam immediately got up, going to pack what meager things they had and get the details from Steve.

“Then I guess it’s time to go.” Mika sighed, pushing back from the table. Bucky looked at her seriously.

“You’re staying here.” he said in Romanian. He thought they talked about this, thought she understood that coming to Germany was one thing, but where he was going now was completely different. She blinked a couple times before responding to him.

“How else is the car going to get back here? How do you plan to get to the airport?” she asked him. “I know I can’t go wherever you’re going, but I’m at least going to make sure you get off safely.” 

“I believe you. I also believe that you’re going to try and stow away on the plane.” he said, giving her a pointed look. She let out a sharp breath, borderline pouting.

“I hate when you figure out my plans.” she said in resignation. “Fine, no stowing away. But I am seeing you off. Please at least give me that.”

Bucky thought for a long time before relenting. “That’s fair.” he said, pushing back from the table. Sam and Steve of course had no idea what they said during the exchange, but Nicoletta was gazing at them sadly from across the kitchen. She’d been washing dishes at one point, but now the water was simply running while she looked like she was trying not to cry.

“Please be careful?” she said to him in German, subtly reminding Bucky that she was also very concerned for his well being. His throat constricted tightly; he didn’t deserve their affection, but he’d be damned if he let it be in vain.

“Of course.” he agreed. He got up and went to her, for once initiating a tight hug. She held onto him dearly, pretending she wasn’t crying. 

“You better come back. It’ll break our hearts if you don’t.” she said, still speaking so Mika couldn’t understand. Mika pressed her lips together to keep her own emotions in check, instead getting up and going to gather the couple things she needed to take with her today. 

“I’ll do my best.” he said. He had to leave it open ended, because he had no idea what they were going to find once they reached Siberia. But he had to be hopeful, if only for the two girls that cared most about him.

“Do better than your best.” she said sharply, pulling back to put her hands on his cheeks. The gesture was comforting and familiar, so similar to what her sister did all the time when she wanted to command his attention. “You know I’ve become very attached to you. You’d be the best brother-in-law ever.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” he said, laughing to cover up his chagrin. He couldn’t even  _ think _ about such a future right now. They had more important things to deal with. Nicoletta nodded, planting a firm kiss on his cheek before clearing her throat and stepping away.

“Good. Now go...save the world or whatever you’re doing.” she said. He smiled at her and nodded.

“Thank you, Nicoletta. For everything.” he said sincerely. Her eyes filled with tears again, but she blinked them away.

“Of course. Be safe.” she said. He turned, spotting Sam and Steve at the door and Mika leaning against the wall, all of them pretending they weren’t eavesdropping. Nicoletta stepped past him to go send them off, her arms open wide to engulf both Sam and Steve in an embrace.

“And you be safe as well.” she said, holding them in a much closer hug than they were anticipating.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam said, ignoring the way Mika was looking at him as he hugged her sister. 

“We’ll get them back to you.” Steve agreed. Nicoletta patted them both on the back before finally letting them go.

“Good. And you better come visit soon. And bring some of your artwork next time.” she said to Steve, making him blush slightly. She pulled Mika into a hug, winking at Sam over her shoulder. Bucky noticed, but chose not to comment, figuring one fight was enough for the morning.

“Thanks for everything, Nicky.” Sam added (if only to piss Mika off just a bit) as they opened the door, filing out into the quiet morning. She stepped onto the front porch, arms crossed as she watched them pile into the little blue bug, waving towards the rear view mirror as they drove away. 

This time, the drive wasn’t awkward. Even if it was just as silent, this time it was because everyone was tense. Mika couldn’t help but feel a little ticked, as everyone in the car knew exactly what was going on - except for her. She didn’t know who Sharon was, she didn’t know where they were going, and she didn’t know what the plan was. All she knew was that Bucky was about to be in a lot of danger, and she was going to have to just wait for him to get back.

Turns out, Sharon was the badass blonde that had kind of arrested her. As soon as she stepped out of the Audi, Mika sunk down behind the seat, trying to hide her face. Sam and Bucky both looked at her, trying to figure out what she was doing.

“Alright there?” Sam asked, his face unamused. He was also in soldier mode, but there was something else with it. The best Mika could gather, he didn’t like the plan. And he was not trying to hide his feelings at all.

“She, uh, kind of arrested me. And I may have...oh shit, what’s the word…” she looked to Bucky, saying the word in Romanian. His eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“‘Escaped’? You escaped arrest?” he asked. 

“I think I was supposed to?” she said, and while it was supposed to be a statement, it came out as a question.

“The hell does that mean?” Sam asked sharply. Bucky was looking at her intensely as well. Mika looked up to find Sharon staring at the car. She could very clearly see both Mika and Bucky, but made no move towards them.

“I’ll tell you later.” she said, waving awkwardly to Sharon. The blonde looked confused, turning to talk to Steve. There was still a strained air in the car as they watched the two talk, their gear barely poking out from the trunk. Bucky was methodically rubbing his metal thumb over his palm, shifting ever so slightly in his seat. This was taking too much time, they needed to get on their way, before anyone else found them.

“Can you move your seat up?” he asked Sam, trying to get some sense of space in the tiny car.

“No.” he said shortly, which Mika thought was pretty rude. She scooted as far towards the door as possible, trying to give Bucky a little more room as he moved to the middle with a sigh. She was just about to comment how this looked like more than just a brief meet up between colleagues when she saw Captain America straight up  _ kiss _ the badass secret agent lady. Her jaw dropped, Bucky’s eyes grew wide, and a grin split across Sam’s face. It was so surreal, that after everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, he was taking a minute to kiss this woman. The thought was so precious that it made tears well up in Mika’s eyes, and she held her hands to her face as Steve looked back at them. She was overemotional about the moment; Sam and Bucky, however, had identical grins as they gave him approving nods. 

“Fucking finally.” Bucky muttered, laughing to himself at his joke. Mika didn’t quite understand the context, but figured Steve wasn’t exactly known to be a lady’s man.

“You have no idea.” Sam added, his tone dry. Steve gathered all their equipment, and the three of them conspicuously watched him as he walked back to the car and put the stuff in the trunk. Sharon spared them one last glance, and Mika felt like she took that moment to stare into her soul before getting back in the Audi and driving away. Steve got back in the car and didn’t say anything at first, blatantly ignoring all of their eyes on him as they waited for a response, or an explanation.

“Shut up.” was all he said, putting the car in gear. Their laughter was enough to diffuse the tension for a brief moment, and Mika wondered if in another time, another life, they might have all been friends. But then they spotted the sign detailing how many kilometers away the airport was, and reality settled around them again. 

Now was when things got tricky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for not updating last weekend y'all! i ended up going out of town and work has been craaaaazy. i'm not gonna lie this isn't my fave chapter but i hope y'all liked it! please tell me what you thought, your words literally fuel me. and all of y'all are awesome.


	43. Scatter

Mika did not like this plan. She did not like this plan at  _ all _ .

She still didn’t know most of it, and she still didn’t know exactly where they were headed, but the details she had about the situation leading up to Bucky’s flush out of hiding were less than satisfactory. She could see Tony’s point of view, but of course she would choose Bucky’s side. She didn’t know whether or not the Sokovia Accords were the right or wrong way to go, and she found herself unable to care. They would not affect her and Bucky. 

After they got the gear from Sharon, it was straight to the airport. The closer they got, the more stressed she felt, and despite their earlier conversations she was still trying to figure out how she could stow away on the plane with them. Just in case this really was it, she refused to let go of Bucky’s hand, and despite him being the one about to go on some super secret dangerous mission, he was the one rubbing her knuckles in a comforting manner. He didn’t want to leave her, but he knew that was the only way to keep her safe. Steve rounded the floors of the parking garage at a slightly nerve wracking speed before coming to a halt on one of the upper floors. No other cars were parked on that level except for a suspiciously large and nondescript white van that definitely made Mika nervous. 

Steve got out of the car first, followed by Sam, and they both went to greet the man that got out of the van. Mika couldn’t remember his actual name, but knew he was listed in the SHIELD registry as  _ Hawkeye _ . Wanda Maximoff (a bit of a hometown hero to them in Romania, even if she was from Sokovia) followed him, looking even younger in person than she did on television. Bucky got out of the car then too, and Mika had no choice but to follow suit, lest she be left out of any more planning. She got out on the same side as Bucky, not wanting to be too close to this crowd of super strangers. The other two Avengers gave her a sparing odd look, but quickly returned to the subject at hand.

“How about our other recruit?” Steve asked, nodding towards the van. Another recruit? How many people had he called exactly? Mika glanced at Bucky, who looked just as on edge as she felt. 

“He’s rarin’ to go.” Hawkeye (God, what was his name?) said, dramatically sliding open the door to the van. Bucky angled himself slightly so that he was between Mika and whoever was there; he trusted Steve, yes, and Sam was growing on him, but he didn’t know these new people. Inside the van, another man they didn’t know laid sprawled out on the seat. “Had to put a little coffee in him, but he should be good.”

The man startled awake as Hawkeye smacked his leg, groaning softly as he painstakingly crawled out of the seat. “Gah, what time zone is this?” he asked, his jetlag evident.

“Come on. Come  _ on _ .” Hawkeye said, shoving him lightly towards the group. He looked a little more awake then, wide and confused eyes taking in the sight of everyone. He smiled brightly as he spotted Steve, and held out a hand for him to shake.

“Captain America.” he said, as if he didn’t believe he was in the same place as him. Steve shook his outstretched hand, trying not to smile and the childlike wonder on the grown man’s face.

“Mr. Lang.” he said. Mika turned to Bucky with pinched eyebrows and he shrugged in response; he had no idea who this person was either. 

“It’s an honor.” he said reverently, still vehemently shaking his hand. He seemed to notice this and said, “I’m shaking your hand too long.” Steve didn’t say anything, but his face said it all. “Wow. This is awesome. Captain America! I know you too, you’re great.” he said, looking back at Wanda. He looked at Bucky and Mika, who both gave him a perked eyebrow, and he decided not to chance mentioning them and instead addressed Steve again. “Ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people so, thinks for thanking of me. Hey, man!” 

“What’s up, Tic Tac?” Sam asked dryly, though there was a bit of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Bucky and Mika were still waiting for him to acknowledge them, and he seemed determined to avoid the awkward situation of having no idea who they were.

“Uh, good to see you. Look, what happened last time when I-”

“It was a great audition. But it’ll never happen again.” he said shortly, and Mika realized that his attitude wasn’t something he only shared with Bucky. 

“They tell you what we’re up against?” Steve cut in, trying to bring them back to the situation at hand. His voice was so serious now compared to when he was chatting at breakfast this morning, and it made Mika even more nervous. It was suddenly very real,  _ too _ real, that Bucky was about to leave her, and she couldn’t follow. She reached down and took his hand, trying to hold on to him for the few moments they had left.

“Something about some psycho assassins?” the guy asked, and Mika immediately turned to Bucky, her eyes wide and angry.

“What?!” she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. The last thing she needed to do was derail the conversation. Bucky refused to look her in the eye; actually, his eyes were closed and he had a pained expression on his face.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” he whispered. Her jaw dropped.

“Didn’t want me to - Bucky, I was already worried! You didn’t mention assassins! As in, more than one assassin! Multiple assassins! You can’t go, I’m not letting you, it’s too dangerous-” her brain was going faster than her mouth could follow, but she didn’t care if her words were tripping over each other. This was too much, there was no way she could let him leave.

“I have to.” he said, interrupting her. He sounded defeated, his voice so low she could barely hear him. “I’m the only one who knows where they are. And I’m the only one that can stop them.” 

“Or, consider this, you can let literally all those people over there take care of it.” she said. Her heart was in her throat and she was choking on her emotions. He finally looked at her then, and his eyes were so sad that she was rendered speechless.

“I have to take care of it. I can’t let them live in the same world as you.” he said, making her heart skip a beat. He squeezed her hand, and while she still vehemently disagreed with it, she knew that there was no talking him out of this one, and no going with him. With a sigh of resignation, she nodded. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she simply pressed her lips together and turned her attention back to the others. His fingers stayed intertwined with hers, and she didn’t know if he was rubbing his thumb over her hand to comfort her or as a display of his own nerves. Either way, it helped at least keep her tears at bay, even if the emotions in her chest were still threatening to spill over. She didn’t know if she was angry or scared or a little bit of both, but either way she felt like she was going to burst.

“Yea, well, what else is new?” the guy was saying, and Mika had to admit that she had no idea what they were talking about.  _ Again _ . 

“We should get moving.” Bucky said. He was shifting his feet, as if ready to take off running at any moment. But his hand still held hers.

“We got a chopper lined up.” Hawkeye said, looking way too comfortable with this situation. Mika held her breath, waiting for the moment when they would finally leave. An alarm started sounding, and a voice echoed through the loudspeakers. Once again, she cursed herself for not learning German.

“They’re evacuating the airport.” Bucky said, finally letting go of her hand only to put his on her cheek. 

“Stark?” Sam asked, and Steve nodded grimly.

“Suit up.” he said, and while he sounded confident, there was a hesitation in his face that Mika wasn’t sure anyone else could see. He moved to the trunk of the car, going to grab the things that Sharon had given them earlier.

“You need to go back to Nicoletta’s.” Bucky said, bringing her attention back to him.   


“Once you’re in the air, I will. I’m not leaving until you’re out.” she said. This was where she was putting her foot down.

“Mika-” 

“No. At least give me that much.” she said, though any bite from her statement was broken by the crack in her voice. She couldn’t stop him from going, and she couldn’t go with him; this was all she had left. He sighed heavily, and she knew he was lamenting her stubbornness.

“As soon as we’re in the air, you go, okay? Promise me that.” he said. It pained him to give in to her, but now was not the time to try and fight. She nodded again. Steve stepped next to her then, holding out Bucky’s backpack to him. He hadn’t realized Sharon had gotten it out with the rest of their stuff. 

“Here you go, Buck.” he said quietly. While they were still learning how to be friends again after spending so many decades apart, there was still a quiet fondness between them. He wasn’t happy to pull Bucky into this, but he was going to stick by him no matter what. Bucky took the back pack from him, unzipping it and pulling a thick black shirt from it. He hadn’t worn it since the day he walked away from the handlers, but he would put it back on today. Steve moved away to get his own gear, and Bucky sighed as he exchanged the soft shirt he’d bought with Nicoletta on a cold November day for the rough fabric of the tactical gear. Mika looked at him with sad eyes, almost as if she knew what it meant for him to be back in it.

“Is it bullet proof?” she asked, idly fixing the shirt even though it wasn’t out of place. She didn’t like the way it felt against her fingertips; it was so abrasive, and it looked uncomfortable. 

“Unfortunately no.” he said. He tried to give her an encouraging grin, but it came out as more of a grimace. She responded with an annoyed look.

“I appreciate you being honest, but that was the perfect opportunity to lie to me.” she said, finally stopping her fidgeting with his shirt and just clasping her hands together. He covered them with his, trying to instill a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt. He opened his mouth to respond, even if he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say, but he was interrupted by Steve.

“It’s time.” he said, holding an earpiece out to Bucky. He nodded, slipping it into his ear with resigned practice. Once again, Mika couldn’t keep her hands still, reaching up to fix his hair where it was mussed. Steve grinned before turning to Bucky. “I think Clint needed your eye on something real quick, before we go.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” he said, slightly confused.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have time to say goodbye.” he added. That seemed to appease Bucky, and he left the two of them to go talk to Clint. When he was out of earshot, Steve pulled another earpiece from his pocket. “Just in case.” 

“I love you. Is it too soon to say that? Because I mean it.” she said, taking it from him and slipping it into her pocket. Steve smiled at her.

“Try not to worry too much. Buck and I have gotten out of plenty of scrapes before.” he said lowly, making Mika perk an eyebrow.

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.” she said with a dry laugh. Steve nodded, and he made her feel like maybe he understood what she was feeling, even if she wasn’t completely sure that he did. 

“After this is all over, I’d like to get to know you. It’s been a long time since I could pester his girlfriend.” he said. It was such a silly sentiment, considering everything that was going on, but Mika couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgia in his voice.

“I’ll allow pestering only if you give me embarrassing stories.” she countered. She tried to make her statement sound playful, but it fell flat. 

“Of course.” he said. He looked like he was going to say something else, but instead he just patter her shoulder and walked away. Bucky quickly replaced him, a suspicious look on his face.

“Please don’t tell me you two were conspiring.” he said lowly. If anyone would figure out a way to get her on that helicopter, it would be Steve. She shook her head.

“He was just giving me some last minute assurances.” she said quietly, looking at him through her tears. He was standing up straighter now, his eyes sharp. She didn’t have to touch him to know that every muscle was tight in anticipation. She put her hands on his cheeks, and his face softened just enough that he looked like her Bucky again. “Be careful. I love you.”

“Say it again.” he whispered.

“Be careful.” she said, laughter building in her chest but dying in her throat. He rolled his eyes.

“So fucking full of shit.” he breathed, his hand going behind her head so that he could pull her in for a kiss. She held him to her a little longer before finally letting him pull away, resting his forehead against hers.

“I love you.” she reiterated.

“I love you too.” he said, looking into her eyes like it was the last time he was going to see her. She didn’t like that look, not one bit. He didn’t say anything else, he just stepped away and went to join the rest of them. Mika thought about running after them, thought about telling them how she could fight, how she could help, but one look at the way they carried themselves shut that idea down. She was no superhero. She sat back down in the driver’s seat of the car and allowed a few tears to fall and a few moments to feel sorry for herself before taking a shuddering breath and pulling the earpiece from her pocket. It seemed simple enough, so she put it on and sat back to listen.

“Looks like it’s just Stark and Rhodey.” Lange was saying.

“Nah, there’s no way they came alone. They wouldn’t shut down the whole airport for just the two of them.” Sam said.

“Did you find the quinjet yet?” Steve’s voice crackled; it was windy where he was, so they all must be separated. Mika tried to visualize what was going on, but it was difficult. 

“Not yet. It’s gotta be around here somewhere.” Sam replied. They needed to find something? There had to be hangar records, right? She twisted around to reach into the back seat, grabbing her laptop from her bag and thanking whatever deity was listening that she didn’t leave it at her sister’s house. It was easy enough to connect to the WiFi, and while she was a little rusty on her hacking skills (she hadn’t really used them since college), she still managed to get past the airport (cyber) security. She flew through the different logs and files until she managed to find it.

“I’ve got it!” she said, but no one replied. “Hello? Hello? I found the quinjet, it’s in hangar five-”

“We found it.” Sam’s voice echoed in her ear. Great, so she could hack airport security but not a freaking comm link. Classic. “The quinjet’s in hangar five, north runway.”

“All right, Lange.” Steve said, and Mika assumed some sort of fight was starting. She couldn’t hear any sounds from the parking garage, which was killing her. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, but once again she was met with silence. She screamed and slapped the steering wheel, as if it were its fault that she couldn’t get the comms to work. She turned back to the hangar; it seemed the door was closed. Perhaps that was something she could focus on. Before she could start overriding the program, though, a loud explosion echoed from the runways, making her jump. The comm link started to slip from her ear as she scrambled out of the car and over to the edge, and she carefully pushed it back to its position as she said, “No no no, Bucky!”

“Mika?” Bucky’s voice sounded in her ear and she almost wanted to cry with relief. No matter what happened, at least he was still alive. She held her finger to the comm again.

“Yea, it’s me. Just keeping tabs.” she said, pushing away from the wall and going back to the car. Crashes started sounding then, and she had to stop herself from going to see what was going on. She had a job to do, even if no one had assigned it to her. “Keep going for the quinjet, I’ll open the door.”

“You can do that?” Sam asked, and Mika ignored the loud  _ boom _ in the background. There’d been no cries of alarm, so that meant they were okay, right?

“That’s the plan. I hacked into the airport system.” she said, grabbing her laptop and moving to the backseat so she would have more room. 

“If only you could hack - ah, shit.” Sam was interrupted by something, and Mika’s stomach dropped to her shoes. 

“Sam? Bucky? Anyone?” she talked into the comm (sure that it was working this time), but once again had no responses. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice even as she said, “You have ten minutes to respond before I start officially freaking out. But just so you know, the doors to hangar five are now open.” 

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long before Bucky’s tired voice sounded. “Update, we’re alive. No matter how much of an idiot Sam is.”

“Good, cause I don’t think they could handle it if I came out there to save your asses.” she said, trying not to give away how relieved she was once again.

“Mika…” he said, a warning in his tone.

“I know, I know. Stay here. Leave as soon as you’re off the ground. I’m being a good girl, I promise.” she said, this time not bothering to cover the bitterness in her voice. Could she keep up in this fight? No. But that didn’t stop her from thinking that she was supposed to be by Bucky’s side, not hiding in the back of the car with her laptop.

“It’ll be worth it after this, I promise.” he said in Romanian, making her smile even though he couldn’t see her.

“You better make it worth my while.” she responded, adding a touch of sauce to her tone. Sam must have pulled himself out of wherever he was, cause he came into the conversation with,

“I hate both of you.” 

Mika laughed, listening hard for any other signs of explosions, but it was relatively quiet. Either they were getting close to escape, or thing were getting to bad that they weren’t able to use the comms. She waited, and waited, and waited, her breaths shallow and her heart racing and the comm link silent in her ear. What was going on? She changed her tactics then, abandoning her link to the hangars and instead trying to get into the video feeds of the security cameras. It was a little trickier than the last time she did it, but she managed, and was finally able to get some eyes on the situation. It was absolute bedlam, all these superheroes she knew (and some she didn’t) battling it out on the tarmac. And she could do nothing but watch. 

But maybe not. Maybe she could do more than that. What was Sam trying to say earlier? What did he want her to hack? Cause the only other thing she could see that he would want her to sabotage would be Iron Man’s suit. She for sure was not smarter than Tony Stark, but maybe, just maybe, she could cause enough problems to give them an opening. She opened a program she hadn’t used in a long time, scanning the area for any wireless signatures. The signal was faint, but hopefully it would be just strong enough. She patched into it and got to work, her eyes flying across the screen as she interpreted the code and attempted to bug it. Without a second monitor she couldn’t see what was going on, she just had to hope she was doing  _ something _ . 

“Meeks, is that you?” Steve spoke for the first time in a while. She didn’t want to take her hand away from the keyboard, so she awkwardly pressed her ear to her shoulder to open the comm.

“Depends, is Iron Man’s suit malfunctioning?” she asked, still trying to keep up with the code in front of her. It was rewriting itself over and over, changing and adapting to try and kick her out.

“Yep!” Sam said, and she couldn’t help but let out a victorious sound. She was glad that they couldn’t hear everything she was saying, especially as she started murmuring  _ fuck _ over and over as the AI in the suit really started fighting back.

“That’s my girl.” Bucky said, and his pride in her made a warmth bloom behind her sternum. But she couldn’t come back with any witty retort because the AI - who identified itself as “Friday” - was now very, very aggressive.

“I can’t hold it much longer.” she said quickly, not noticing as Bucky had to translate what she said because she’d forgotten to speak in English. She was typing as fast as she could, but she was quickly being overrun. Soon, the letters and numbers were going so fast that she couldn’t even read them, and a few minutes later, her laptop completely shut down. “I’m out. Good luck.”

It was silent for a while, and Mika figured the battle had picked back up. She still sat in the back seat, occasionally pushing the power button of her laptop and hoping it would turn back on. A few minutes later, the comms finally crackled again, but the words were not directed at her.

“I’ll take Vision, you get to the jet.” That was Steve. Wait, was he sending the others on without him? That wasn’t part of the deal.

“No. You get to the jet.” Sam said, and for the first time Mika agreed with him. She knew Sam was on their side, but she much preferred Steve to be with Bucky. “The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

Mika’s blood turned to ice. All these people were here to help Steve and Bucky - and they were going to get in horrible trouble because of them too. But they didn’t seem mad about it. In fact, they seemed like they had been expecting this all along. She could cry, thinking about how supportive they were.

“As much as I hate to admit it, if we’re gonna win this one, some of us are gonna have to lose it.” Clint said. Mika held her tongue, knowing that now was not the time for her to speak. All those people helping were going to be taken into custody, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“We need a diversion. Something big.” Sam said. She didn’t like the sound of that. Didn’t like the sound of that at all. 

“I got something big but I can’t hold it very long!” Scott volunteered, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was serious or if he was just making a bawdy joke. “On my signal run like hell and if I tear myself in half don’t come back!”

“What the fuck?” Mika whispered to herself, but there was no answer to her question. A low rumble echoed from the tarmac, and Mika turned to see a literal giant in a red suit, his movements slow as he started throwing things around. So much seemed to be happening all at once - explosions sounded, Iron Man and War Machine flew every which way, and Vision shot golden beams at who knows what. She covered her mouth with her hands as a large tower started tumbling down towards hangar five, which she knew Bucky and Steve were going towards. But then a red energy held it up - Wanda. Whether they made it or not, she couldn’t tell, the comms going silent as the brawl seemed to get smaller and smaller on the tarmac.

“Bucky? Bucky, are you okay?” she asked. It seemed like hours before he finally responded.

“We’re okay. We’re in the jet and taking off.” he said, and Mika felt like she could breathe for the first time in a few hours. She tossed her laptop to the side and went to get out of the car.

“Okay good. I’ll head back to - oh fuck.” As soon as she exited the vehicle, soldiers in SWAT gear had guns trained on her, shouting at her in German.

“Mika? Mika, what is it?” Bucky asked. He sounded worried, which was fair, she thought.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” she said. She just happened to say it at the same time the men started yelling  _ on your knees _ in English.

“Are they arresting you?” Steve asked, shocked. How could they do this?

“We’re turning around.” Bucky added, but Mika shut that down quickly.

“No! You have a job to do.” she said, going onto her knees and putting her hands behind her head. Luckily, that made it easy for her to still operate the comm, though she was sure they would take that away from her soon. Unwilling to take the risk, she spoke in Romanian, “Go save the world, then we’ll figure this out, okay? I love you. More than anything. Remember that.”

“Not everyone speaks Romanian, Mika!” Sam chided, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course he had to ruin their moment.

“That wasn’t  _ meant _ for everyone.” she said, pissed that he interrupted them.

“I love you too.” he said quickly, and she could actually hear the pain in his voice. That was the last of their communication, as the men roughly pulled her arms behind her back and zip tied her wrists together. The comm was ripped from her ear, cutting her off from her friends. There were still sounds of fighting from the tarmac, but she was all alone. She didn’t bother trying to fight or talk her way out; somehow, she knew that there was no escaping this time. 

They dragged her from the parking garage and into a waiting van, pushing her into the farmost corner. She didn’t know how long she waited there - seemed like at least an hour - but it was long enough to be surprised when the doors flew open again. There stood the famous Tony Stark, looking battered and bruised, heartbroken and annoyed.

“Who the hell is this?” he asked, and behind him she could see them lining up Sam, Wanda, Clint, and Scott. 

“She’s a known associate of the Winter Soldier.” one of the men told him. “We found her in the parking garage with this.” He held up her laptop. Tony looked from her laptop to her, his jaw clenching as he connected the dots.

“You’re the one who tangoed with Friday.” he said. She didn’t respond, only staring at him with what she hoped was cool and unbothered expression, though she suspected it was anything but. He sighed. “Another day, I might have given you a bit of a chance. But as far as I’m concerned, this is where you should be.” 

With that, he turned and stalked off, the sound of his suit powering to life audible even from the back of the van. The men loaded up the other conspirators, all of whom looked a little worse for wear. Sam slid in first and sat next to her, looking at her for a long moment before dropping his gaze to his shoes. She thought she knew what he wanted to say.

Despite their differences, they were stuck together now. And they needed to make the best of it.


	44. Jailhouse Rock

Whatever ideas Mika had about being arrested, this was certainly different.

Granted, she’d never been arrested before by normal police, let alone by high-end superhero task force police. The seat was uncomfortable, and her shoulders were getting tight from the position, but every time she looked at Wanda in her straightjacket the pain faded. The van ride was quiet and tense, and Mika didn’t know whether to look at the people around her or not, so she ended up just keeping her eyes on her shoes. Since her hands were still zip tied behind her back, she couldn’t pick at her nail polish to calm her nerves, so she just bounced her leg up and down to try and dispel the energy. Sam sent a glare her way and she stopped, but his face softened as she did. It’s like he knew how terrifying this was to her. But she wasn’t worried about where the van was taking her, she was just worried about Bucky, and whether he was alright. 

The van finally stopped and the door opened to reveal an annoyed looking Natasha. They were back at the building from earlier, the task force building. A few soldiers stood behind her with their weapons drawn, but she turned and chastised them in German until they lowered them. 

“For the record, I tried to prevent all this.” she said, her eyes sliding over to Clint. He didn’t even look sorry at this point.

“Yea, I know.” he replied. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know. Agent Ross said I no longer get a say in anything.” she said, and she sounded disappointed. Mika’s eyes flew to Sam’s, wide and scared. If Natasha was no longer in charge, then things were sure to go from bad to worse. Sharon and the older man from the interrogation room walked out of the front door, and the man looked completely irate. Sharon could barely keep up with him as he strode over to them, weaving through the soldiers until he stood at the back of the van next to Natasha.

“Well I hope everyone is happy with themselves.” he said. He looked directly at Mika, and it took everything in her not to wither under his gaze. “Are we still pretending we don’t know English? Cause I’m sure Agent Romanoff here would be more than happy to continue the charade.”

“No, thank you.” she said, and while her voice was not as strong as she wished it was, it was still firmer than she thought it would be. He nodded.

“Thank God. Okay, everybody out.” he said, gesturing for them to get up and follow him into the building. 

“Where are we going?” Sam asked, and for a moment they thought Agent Ross (Mika assumed that’s who Natasha was referring to) was going ignore the question. But with a sigh, he answered,

“The Secretary of State and other United Nations delegates are on the way. They’ll make the ultimate decision of where you will all be incarcerated.” he said, sounding more irked with every word he spoke. 

“So this isn’t like, an ‘if’ situation?” Scott asked, and his question was easily ignored by Agent Ross. It was a fair question, Mika thought. Wasn’t there supposed to be due process of law or something? Wasn’t there supposed to be a trial? Had there been a trial, and she somehow missed it? Again, she looked to Sam, not bothering to hide her panic. He gave her a look that said he was unconcerned, shaking his head as if the threats were empty. He was being so nice to her now, so supportive, that she felt a little bad for being so cold towards him over the past day or so. She didn’t want to keep bothering him with her panic, but he was currently the only person she’d known for longer than a couple hours. With Bucky gone and her sister and friends a lifetime away, he was the last line she had left. 

Scott and Clint kept pestering Agent Ross as they walked through the building, and not even a few warning glares from Natasha and Sharon could shut them down. Mika didn’t know if they were actually trying to accomplish something or just trying to provide some comic relief to ease the stress of the current situation, but either way she was happy for the distraction. They made her believe that maybe, just maybe, this was going to end up okay. 

She was wrong, of course, but that was beside the point.

Once in the building, they were all put in separate rooms and the zip ties were cut from their wrists. The reprieve was brief, as soon they were handcuffed to the tables in front of them. Sam was taken further down the hall, and she was left sandwiched between Wanda and Clint. She was the only one who seemed to be panicking; Clint looked annoyed, and borderline bored, and Wanda just looked like she wanted to fight somebody. Mika analyzed the handcuffs in front of her, but these were different than the ones they’d put on her earlier. These were made for super beings, and she was not one of those by far. 

“Can’t pick these with a bobby pin.” Natasha said from the door, announcing her arrival. Mika tried and failed not to jump in surprise; she’d been so focused on the chain, she hadn’t noticed the Black Widow’s arrival. She was leaning casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. 

“I figured.” Mika replied, letting the chain run through her hands. At least it gave her something to fidget with. “Earlier, when we spoke…”

“You did what you had to do.” she said with a shrug. So Mika was able to interpret her signals correctly. “Now, I was hoping you wouldn’t get caught, but here we are.”

“Yea that...was not part of the plan.” Mika sighed. She wouldn’t trade the outcome, though. Bucky was safe, and was able to get away to go on whatever mission he’d put on himself. She finally looked up at Natasha. “This is not going to go well, is it?”

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” she conceded. She pushed off the door frame, looking like she was about to leave, but Mika was so desperate for a friendly face that she couldn’t help but blurt out the question in her mind in order to make her stay.

“Why did you help me?” she asked, clamping her lips shut as soon as the words left her mouth. She was supposed to be tough, and badass, a woman strong enough to be the love of the Winter Soldier. But she didn’t feel any of those things right now. She just felt very alone, and very scared. “Why did you go against orders?”

“Because sometimes orders are wrong.” she said simply, and Mika wished she could have even a shred of the woman’s confidence right now. “I learned a long time ago that the world is not evenly divided by right and wrong. You have to find your own code, and follow it.”

“Wise words. But I don’t think I executed my code quite properly.” Mika agreed, though she couldn’t help but think that it’s a lot easier to follow your own code when there’s special training and skills involved. And when you’re not super handcuffed to a table. She didn’t regret doing the things she did to help Bucky, but she was acutely aware that they were less than legal. 

“You’re gonna be alright, Corsof.” Natasha said with a grin, and Mika imagined there was a bit of affection to her voice. Again, she looked like she was about to leave, but Mika had one last question for her.

“Did you know my sister?” This time, she wasn’t afraid of the answer. Just curious. Natasha paused for a long time, looking at her almost like she was seeing the similarities between her and Raisa for the first time. One corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk, and she nodded.

“Our paths crossed a time or two. I’ll tell you about it sometime.” she said, and this time Mika didn’t stop her exit with another question. She didn’t like the silence that followed, but she could at least rest in comfort knowing that someone was on her side. She sat and she waited, watching through the glass walls as official looking people in suits and ties started making their way down the line of hardened criminals. And even if it was the most inappropriate time, all she could think of was the movie  _ Jaws _ , feeling like she was stuck in a tiny boat watching the shark get closer. By the time it was her turn, she felt like she was drowning, barely able to get any air into her lungs. She’d been in trouble before, sure. But not this kind of trouble.

“Mika Alexandria Corsof.” A man that she did not recognize was the first to speak. Behind him stood Agent Ross, a very official looking older man, and a few soldiers she didn’t know. Sharon was nowhere to be found. She didn’t know if she was supposed to answer or not, and found she couldn’t anyways due to her panic. When he spoke again, it was in perfect Romanian, and a smug looking Ross made it seem like he wanted to be sure she understood how much shit she was in. “You have been charged with evading arrest, aiding and abetting a known international enhanced terrorist, and purposeful cyber attacks against Berlin Brandenburg International Airport, Stark Industries, and the Avengers Initiative. How do you plead?”

“Shouldn’t...shouldn’t I have a lawyer?” she asked, though she wished she would have pointed out that Bucky was  _ not _ a terrorist. That’s how this was supposed to go, right? She wasn’t supposed to just try and figure all this legal mumbo-jumbo on her own? The man looked like he expected this answer.

“In accordance with the Sokovia Accords, which is an international initiative to regulate enhanced beings and their associates, evidence is presented and sentences settled solely on objective measurement of the crimes. There is no longer room for persuasive arguments, only the facts.” he said. God, he was  _ enjoying _ this. Mika glanced over at Wanda, whose eyes were glowing red as she stared at the group. This was not good. This was not good at all. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty?” Mika said, all her confidence lost. She felt completely out of control. She looked at Wanda again, the young woman looking so frustrated that Mika half expected the straightjacket holding her to burst into flames.

“On what grounds?” he asked sternly, and once again she was unable to answer. She felt like she was stuck in a nightmare, unable to breathe and unable to speak. She wanted to be tough, wanted to be strong, but she was quickly falling apart.

“Because he didn’t do anything wrong.” she said, giving possibly the worst argument that she could have chosen at this moment. Again, the man look like he expected this answer.

“Former Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes bombed a United Nations summit, escaped arrest, assaulted thirty-eight German officers between here and Bucharest, stole a police helicopter, attacked members of Stark Industries and the Avengers Initiative, and stole a Stark quinjet. Again, on what grounds do you say ‘not guilty’?” he said, his words practiced and robotic. His monotone did not match the odd sadistic grin on his face. Mika looked at Wanda again, but she was just looking at the table in front of her. She looked to Clint, and was sure her face told every emotion she was having, but he just gave her a sad look and shook his head. The water was too deep, and she couldn’t outswim the shark. 

“Because I don’t think what I did was wrong. I was protecting a man that I love, who was a victim trying to get his life back.” she said. The man’s eyebrow twitched, the only break in his facade that let her know she’d finally said something he hadn’t planned for. Of course, he still had an answer.

“Not a viable, objective answer. If you cannot give me concrete evidence that you did not commit the crimes you are charged with, then you assume responsibility for your actions.” he said. She sat, completely paralyzed, the silence around them suffocating her as she scrambled for something, anything that she could say to stop this. But it was too late. “Very well. You are sentenced to twenty years on the Raft, at which time your case will be reviewed for either further sentencing or parole.”

With that, he stood and walked out of the room, moving on to Clint as if he hadn’t just completely destroyed her world. Sentenced? Twenty years?  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck-! _ She looked to Wanda again and their eyes met. The younger woman cocked her head to the side, mouthing,  _ how many? _ Mika held up her hands, displaying a two and a zero with them. She nodded at Wanda, asking the same in return. She had been so angry earlier, but now she just looked defeated. And Mika understood why after she mouthed one word -  _ life _ . Her blood ran cold. They’d only given her twenty years, but they were planning to put Wanda away for life?! It made no sense. For a document that seemed to be based on objectivity, the variance in sentencing seemed suspiciously subjective. She was just a kid, for heaven’s sake!

Mika turned to see if Clint had any sort of input, but he was glaring harshly at the sentencing man, somehow managing to cross his arms despite the handcuffs. She watched as he sat up, speaking so emphatically that she knew he must be yelling, even if she couldn’t hear anything he was saying. The man sat, unperturbed, and waited for him to finish. He delivered his final verbal blow before making his abrupt exit, as if they weren’t people that he was talking to, just items on a list to be crossed off. Clint was breathing hard, his eyes on his hands, and for the first time he looked like he regretted participating in this. He looked up at Mika, perking an eyebrow. She held up her hands again, signalling the twenty. He held up both of his, but not for twenty; no, he showed thirty. Thirty? What the hell kind of sentencing game was this? She tried the cuffs again, but they remained locked. She tried to push the table or the chairs, but they were bolted into floor. She shook them, pulled them, kicked them, trying to get them to move. She had to get out of there, had to leave, before she completely suffocated. Twenty years? In prison? Not even prison, they’d called it “the Raft;” what the hell was “the Raft”?!

_ Panicking won’t help _ . Bucky’s words came to her then. He’d originally said them during one of their training sessions, when he was teaching her how to get out of a hold. She forced herself to take a deep breath, and another. Bucky had to deal with assaults on both body and mind in the past twenty-four hours, and was now on a rogue mission to take down a group of assassins. She could handle prison. She would just have to wait.

“What a fucking way to get a lesson in patience.” she muttered to herself, finally letting her arms relax. Her wrists were battered and bruised from trying to break the cuffs, and possibly bleeding in a spot or two. It hurt a disproportionate amount. And if anybody asked, that was the reason why she was crying right now. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. She wouldn’t say she was in a catatonic state, but she certainly felt numb all over. She stopped trying to fight when they moved her, stopped trying to answer their questions. Nothing she said would matter anyway. She was going to the Raft, and she was just going to have to hope that in twenty years, she would be released. She followed their orders, going through the motions as she was stripped of everything on her person and given the odd prison uniform. They barked at her to go this way or that, to stand here or there, to keep her eyes down or look up at the camera or “see what you’ve gotten yourself into.” She thought she would have a breakdown due to everything that had happened over the past two days, but it looked like she was just going to shut down. Very well, that would make this process easier. 

They didn’t let them talk to each other or see each other after that, though she didn’t think that would help anyway. There was nothing they could do about any of it, except to wait out their sentences. A line of armored vans took them on a long drive, passing kilometer after kilometer of countryside. She didn’t know where this Raft was (or  _ what _ it was), but apparently it was very far away. She watched the horizon as the sun started to set, and soon she couldn’t see anything besides the distant lights of the cities they passed. She tried to stay awake the whole trip, but soon the day caught up with her, and she fell asleep with her head bouncing against the window. 

She was awoken roughly. It was still dark, and the van was now parked on a dock. Was the Raft just her own little boat that she had to live on alone for the next twenty years? Clearly not, because why then would there be a helicopter right next to them? Her handlers pulled her out of the van, and she immediately grimaced and averted her face as the wind from the blades slapped at her. That didn’t stop the agents from dragging her by the arm to the chopper, loading her into it like another cow sent to slaughter. They didn’t say anything to her now, and barely looked at her. Their attention was on their surroundings and the large automatic guns in their hands. Did they really think her that dangerous? Or was that the sort of people that usually crossed their paths? She thought the helicopter ride would be short, but it actually lasted a couple hours, finally setting down on a massive building in the middle of the ocean. Now the name made sense.

More shoving, more walking, more processing. Go here, do this, look here, do that. With every step, she became a little more hopeless. She knew she couldn’t give up, and didn’t plan to overall, but for the moment she planned to wallow in misery and feel sorry for herself. She was glad when everything was finally sorted, and they started leading her down, down, down into the claustrophobic prison. 

They led her to a round room, its walls lined with cells. Most of them were empty, but her heart leapt as she saw Sam sitting on the bench in his. So she wasn’t going to be alone, or with a bunch of dangerous strangers. They put her in the cell next to his, and she held her breath until they filed out of the room to process the next prisoner. She stood up then, going to stand at the corner connecting their two cubes.

“Hey Sam?” she said cautiously. She knew they were likely being recorded, both with audio and video, so she tried to keep her voice low. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure he could hear her anyway. There was a very real chance that the walls were sound proof.

“Yea?” he asked, guarded. She winced; that was fair. She didn’t know what to say first:  _ I’m sorry this happened, _ or  _ thank you for everything,  _ or  _ I’m scared _ . What she settled on was, 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you for flirting with my sister.” She could hear his laugh, and could almost imagine him shaking his head.

“It was a fair call. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.” he said. She smiled to herself then, thinking that even if this situation was horrible, at least she wasn’t alone. “Don’t worry about it, Meeks.”

“You’ve got a thing for...for...fuck, what’s the word…” she tried to remember the English she was looking for, snapping her fingers as if that would help it come to her. “Not new names but…”

“Nicknames?” he asked, laughing louder at her exclamation of  _ yes! _ “Yea, it’s a bit of a habit. For the record, Steve’s just as bad.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I’ve never really had many nicknames.” she said. They were silent for a moment, the weight of their situation settling on them. “How long did they give you?”

“Forty years.” he sighed.

“Forty?! But they only gave Clint thirty!” she said. These numbers were seemingly arbitrary compared to the relatively equal crimes between them, and she was suddenly happy for her short twenty year sentence.

“I was there when Rhodey got hurt, so they tacked on an extra decade for good measure.” he said. She expected him to sound frustrated, but instead he just sounded sad. She didn’t know who Rhodey was, but Sam clearly did, and even if they all disagreed on these circumstances he obviously didn’t want him to get hurt. “Plus, we’re the examples here. And if I’m honest, I don’t think any of us are actually getting out.”

“Fuck.” she breathed, crossing her arms. She eyed the chair and the cot, but they didn’t look any more comfortable than the floor. So she just leaned against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the tile, her knees pulled to her chest. 

“My sentiments exactly.” he said. They were silent again, and after a few minutes she heard him start pacing steadily around the tiny room. They watched as the agents brought in Scott, then Clint, then finally Wanda, putting them all in their spots with the same brusque attitude they’d shown her. Wanda was sedated for the first hour, laying on her cot with her arms still tucked around her in the straightjacket. Clint sat up on his, arms crossed and eyes angry as he watched over her. Scott, the only one who seemed to accept their fate, tried to crack a few jokes before giving up and sitting down. Once they were all settled, the older man that was there during their sentencing came and stood in the middle of the room, eyeing each of them like dogs that needed to be put down. 

“So? Who wants to tell me where Barnes and Rogers went?” he asked, and Mika couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the arrogance with which he carried himself. He turned to her then. “How about you, Ms. Corsof? I’m sure we can negotiate an early release for some information. I’m sure your sister or your mother would be happy to hear that.”

“Clearly you haven’t really spoken with my mother then.” Mika said. Sure, her mother would actually be very concerned about her being in jail, but if she knew the whole story then she likely wouldn’t feel sorry for her. One time Raisa had returned from a stint in America battered and bruised and with a broken arm, and she received no sentiments from their mother. It was up to Mika and Nicoletta to nurse her back to health. The man turned to Clint then. 

“What about you, Barton? You gonna let Laura and the kids wonder what happened?” he asked. He was very obviously trying to bait them, and Mika wondered if he really thought that tactic was going to work. 

“The world will keep turning, Ross. It always does.” he replied shortly. Another Ross? He stared at him for a long moment before going to Scott.

“What is your ex-wife telling Cassie right now, hm?” he asked. Scott perked an eyebrow.

“Probably that Daddy has to go away for a little while, but that he loves her very much. Just like the last time.” he said, and though he tried to sound tough, Mika thought he also sounded quite sad. At last, Ross finally went to go stand in front of Wanda.

“And you? What would your brother say, if he were still alive?” he said. Wanda glared at him, the only thing giving away how angry she was being the glowing red of her eyes.

“If my brother were still alive, he’d be right here with me.” she said through gritted teeth. “Actually, he’d probably have gotten us away.” 

Ross didn’t like that answer any more than the other ones. He went to talk to Sam, but was interrupted by another agent coming down into the room, whispering something in his ear. Mika couldn’t hear exactly what they said, but thought she heard him mention the name  _ Stark _ . Ross looked even more annoyed then, shooing the agent away and rounding on Sam again.

“Stark is here. Anything you want to confess before I go talk to him?” he asked, an eyebrow perked and a challenge in his eyes. Sam was silent for a long time, and since she couldn’t see him, Mika almost started to worry that he was going to give in.

“Nope.” he said finally, popping the p on the end of the word. She grinned then, her confidence bolstered knowing that all of them were in this together. Ross didn’t respond, he only turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. They didn’t celebrate this small win, because they were all very aware that they were still in jail. But at least it was something.

Tony was very aware of the chip on his shoulder (and possibly, on his humerus as well) as he got out of the helicopter on the Raft. Of course, his attitude wasn’t exactly helped by Secretary Ross and his antagonism. This was where they sent everyone? Since when did they treat their own people like the most dangerous people in the world? He spotted Wanda on a screen as he walked through the security room, tied up and sitting in the corner of her cell. She was just a kid, this was not where she belonged. All of them deserved to be punished, but none of them deserved to be here. 

It was a long trek down to level eight, and he felt a pressure in his chest like he was scuba diving too deep. God, it was suffocating down here. Sam didn’t look at him, Wanda eyed him with cold indifference, and the weird size-changing guy and the girl with Barnes both stood up to look at him properly. The best, though, was the sarcastic slow clap coming from Clint.

“The futurist, gentleman!” he called in a showman’s voice, each word grating on Tony’s ears. Didn’t they see where he was coming from? Didn’t they understand? “The futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what’s best for you...whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break, Barton.” he said shortly. He didn’t come here to be ridiculed. He came to try and right some wrongs. “I had no idea they’d put you here. Come on.”

“Yea, well, you knew they’d put us somewhere, Tony.” he said. It was a fair point, which is probably why it stung so much. These were his friends, his family. They weren’t supposed to be in jail. 

“Yea but not some supermax floating ocean pokey. This is a place for maniacs, this is a place for...I don’t know-”

“Criminals, Tony. I think that’s the word you’re looking for, right? It didn’t use to mean me, or Sam, or Wanda. But here we are.” Clint said, finally coming to the glass to look him in the eye. Tony felt like another piece of shrapnel went into his heart, but he ignored it. He had a job to do.

“Because you broke the law. I didn’t make you.” he said, defensive. Everyone was always trying to fight him. Why couldn’t they see the bigger picture? “You read it, you broke it. You’re all grown up, you got a wife and kids, I don’t understand why you didn’t think about them before you chose the wrong side.” He was done trying to talk to Clint. He wasn’t listening anyway.

“Gotta watch your back with this guy. Chance he’s gonna break it!” Clint said as Tony walked away, slamming the glass for good measure. Tony stopped briefly, wanting to turn back and yell about how what happened to Rhodey wasn’t fair, how he knew he’d now get even less sleep at night until he could figure out a way to solve his best friend’s problem. But Rhodey was in recovery, and he had a bigger job to do. He was the only one who always looked at the big picture. 

“Gram always said you could never trust a Stark.” Scott said, his tone scathing. This dude’s gram was the least of Tony’s problem right now.

“Who are you?” he asked, moving on. Sam was facing away from him, but the girl that was with Barnes glared at him with a passion he didn’t expect. “Got something to add there, Stockholm Syndrome?” 

Her eyes widened for a moment, and she spat out something in Romanian before going to the back of her cell. He rolled his eyes. Girl couldn’t even insult him in English.

“She told you to fuck off.” Wanda called from across the room, a weirdly satisfied smirk on her face. “And called you a name that Americans find very, very rude.”

“It would have more effect if I could understand it.” he said snidely, and the girl came back to the glass. She held up her middle finger, making sure he could see it.

“Fuck. Off.” she said slowly before returning to the back of her cell. He let out a frustrated sigh, and looked to see that Sam was finally giving him the time of day. 

“How’s Rhodey?” he asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Well their flight into Columbia Medical is tomorrow so...fingers crossed.” he said. He didn’t want to think about how much pain he was in right now. He had to focus, had to compartmentalize. Had to make it through. One problem at a time. “What do you need? They feed you yet?”

“You’re the good cop now?” Sam asked. Again, a fair question considering how they met earlier that morning. 

“I’m just the guy who needs to know where Steve went.” Tony said. There was no need to hide his intentions anymore, or try and talk his way around it. These people would see right through  him, because they knew him. 

“Well you better go and get a bad cop, cause you gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me-” 

Tony didn’t care, punching his watch to work the audio jammer from his helicopter to the main control room. “Huh? I just knocked the ‘A’ out of their AV. We got about thirty seconds before they realize it’s not their equipment. Just look,” he pulled a holographic image of a body found in a bathtub in Berlin. “because that is the fellow who was  _ supposed _ to interrogate Barnes. Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong.”

“That’s a first.” Sam muttered.

“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he’s about to need all the help he can get.” he said. The clock was ticking, and he needed information if he was going to salvage his team. He could deal with the legal issues later, but none of it would be worth it if Steve was dead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Barnes’ girl come back to the glass, listening in. “We don’t know each other very well, you don’t have faith-”

“Just...alright.” Sam conceded, and the woman next to him looked like she wanted to disagree. Luckily she stayed silent, though she was clearly trying to decide how much she trusted Sam. “Look, I’ll tell you, but you have to go alone. And as a friend.”

Mika waited to see what Tony would say. She didn’t think it was a good idea, but she wasn’t going to fight this. This was way out of her depth, and it was completely up to Sam. “Easy.” the word was so easy to him, so sure, that she couldn’t help but believe him too. 

“Siberia. Old Hydra base. We think Zemo’s trying to release an army of super soldiers.” he said quickly, not wanting to take a risk on their time limit. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Tony said, stepping back away from the glass.

“Please don’t hurt him.” Mika said, finally able to speak. He looked at her for a long time, but apparently couldn’t think of anything to say, because he just nodded and turned to leave. Once again, they were left alone.

She just hoped he wasn’t too late.


	45. Phase One of Healing

The sound of the shield dropping echoed through the chamber. Bucky could hear the hurt in Tony Stark’s voice, the panic of a man who was at the end of his rope. He wanted to feel bad for him, know that he should, but whatever argument was going on between him and Steve didn’t concern him. The Winter Soldier had murdered the Starks, and Bucky knew he was going to have to live the rest of his life with the hatred from Tony and the guilt from himself. Whatever else was going on was out of his control.

The cold shocked his system, and while he could feel the brain injury from the last kick from the iron boot healing, the exposed wiring from his arm made it feel like sharp pokers were entering through his shoulder and wedging their way into every nerve in his body. He remembered hearing once that at extreme temperatures, the human body doesn’t register hot or cold, only pain. And that’s what he felt now - pain. 

“What do we do now?” he asked Steve, his voice lower and more forced than it should be. Each step hurt, and his body was having trouble keeping up with the constant reinjuring coming from what remained of his prosthetic.

“Honestly? Not sure.” he replied as they limped towards the quinjet. From behind one of the snow drifts, the Black Panther stepped out. Steve immediately put himself between the King of Wakanda and Bucky, and while Bucky could fight if he really needed to, all he wanted to do was collapse. The man took his helmet off, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace.

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance.” he said carefully. Steve didn’t drop his defensive posture, and Bucky tried to stand up a little straighter, even if he knew he was anything but intimidating right now. T’Challa continued, “I know you have no reason to trust me. But I was wrong, about everything. And now I see that revenge is not what we need.”

“What do we need then?” Steve asked. His voice was tight, suspicious. Bucky had never known him to be like this. Then again, Bucky hadn’t known him in a very long time.

“Helmut Zemo is detained on your quinjet. He is the one responsible for all of this.” he said, and Steve flexed his fingers for a second before relaxing his arms down. 

“And what do you plan to do with him? I think I’m past the bargaining chip phase.” Steve responded. Bucky wanted to believe he was past the ruthless killing part of his life, but he didn’t think he’d regret it too much to put one more notch on his bedpost. The man had effectively ruined everything good he had going for him. Now, the whole world knew his face, and the woman he loved was compromised. The only thing stopping him was the fact that Mika would (probably) disapprove.

“I will turn him in to the proper authorities. They can be the ones to deliver fair justice. As for you two…” He left the sentence hanging, waiting for them to fill in the blank. 

“We can disappear. You never have to hear from us again.” Steve replied. T’Challa looked surprised, as if that were not the answer he was expecting. He laughed, shaking his head.

“Captain Rogers, I think you and I will work together more than once in the future.” he said. His eyes slid over to Bucky, who held his gaze. “Besides, I believe Sergeant Barnes needs someone to take a look at that.”

“I can just rip it off. It’s fine.” Bucky said. Before, he kept the arm for functionality’s sake. But now, he had no excuse, and he could finally be rid of it. He had no idea what his arm looked like underneath it, but that was something he could deal with later. 

“We can’t ask for help, not after all the shit we’ve just put you through.” Steve said, his tone finally dropping to his normal speaking voice. T’Challa smiled again.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” he said. “Zemo has caused enough chaos in our world. It’s time to put some good back into it.”

“No offense, but from what we’ve been told about your home country…” Steve couldn’t bring himself to finish the statement, and Bucky couldn’t offer any help. Before two days prior, he’d never even  _ heard _ of Wakanda. T’Challa nodded; this  _ was _ a reaction he’d expected.

“Trust me, Captain Rogers. We can help. You’ll see.” he said. He touched a bead on his bracelet, and from underneath the snow (or had it been on top of the snow, and just cloaked?) a black aircraft materialized, buzzing softly in a way they’d never heard. The plane screamed of a technology that they’d never seen, and Bucky thought that if he didn’t feel like his entire nervous system was about to shut down, he’d love to analyze it thoroughly. “The jet will take you back to Wakanda, and I will meet you there after I deal with this.”

“What if they take you into custody?” Bucky asked. He didn’t like being sent ahead to a place he’d never heard of and people he’d never met, but it seemed like this was his only option besides freezing to death in the Siberian snow. And Mika would not approve of that either. 

“Let me worry about that, Sergeant Barnes.” he said. He touched his bracelet again, and a ramp lowered from the aircraft. “My mother and sister will greet you when you arrive. I shouldn’t be far behind you.”

Steve looked to Bucky, who shrugged in response. What choice did they have? He took one step towards the jet, stumbling slightly as his muscles didn’t respond to the neural impulses the way they should. Steve grabbed his arm, bringing it over his shoulders again. They paused as they reached T’Challa.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Steve said. Bucky tried to voice his gratitude, but spasticity from the injuries were keeping his mouth sealed shut. T’Challa nodded in response before turning away from them, going instead to the quinjet. They limped onto the black plane, the controls whirring to life as they stepped onboard. A surprisingly human voice greeted them, instructing them to make themselves comfortable and telling them that the craft would lift off as soon as they were safely seated. Out the window, they could see the quinjet take off, heading back in the direction from which they came. Steve helped Bucky lower down into a seat, his joints shuddering as they were forced into different positions. Now that things were calming down, his body was able to ramp into overdrive to try and heal. Steve collapsed a seat over, pushing his helmet off and leaning his head against the wall of the craft. The voice gave one final warning before smoothly lifting off and heading to Wakanda.

“What if it’s worse where he’s sending us?” Bucky asked, though he didn’t sound particularly worried about it. Even if more enemies awaited them, he couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it. 

“He didn’t seem like he was lying.” Steve said. He chuckled briefly. “But we can take whatever is there, even if Natasha says I can’t punch my way out of everything.”

“Debatable.” Bucky said dryly, ignoring the fact that he only had one hand to punch things with now. He didn’t really care about losing the metal one; he was just getting annoyed at the random electrical shocks it kept sending back into him. Now that they had a minute, he asked, “Do you know where they took her?”

“Probably the Raft. That’s what the Accords said would happen to those who violated it.” he said, knowing who he was talking about even if he didn’t say her name. Bucky had never heard of this prison, but he had a feeling that it was not good.

“How do I get her out? None of this was her fault.” he said. The pain from his arm was slowly diminishing to a manageable level, manageable enough for him to start planning a jail break. He didn’t know where they could go afterwards, but that didn’t matter. 

“I’ll get her. You gotta get patched up.” Steve said, and Bucky nodded. As much as it killed him to agree, he knew that he was in no state to go back to Mika - assuming she still wanted anything to do with him. If he was going to ask her to stay, he had to be fully functioning. Maybe, if the people of Wakanda could make such an incredible aircraft, and fix his arm, then they also had something that could fix his head. 

“Thank you, Steve. For everything.” he said softly. Even despite their earlier conversation, he didn’t think he was worth all of this trouble. But just like seventy years ago, Steve was always by his side.

“Of course. Lost you once, bud. Not gonna happen again.” he said, clapping a hand on his good shoulder. Bucky grinned, the ghosts of their past friendship circling around his head. He’d been avoiding his past ever since he walked away from his handlers, but perhaps he didn’t have to let go of all of it. He loved everything knew in his life (besides recent events), but it also felt good to have a little bit of the life he lost back. 

They sat in silence for the rest of the ride, watching out the window as they passed over lands and seas that they’d never encountered before. Of all the places both of them had travelled to over the years, Africa (any of the countries there) was not on the list. Animals that they’d only seen in books and movies ran underneath the craft, the plane so silent that it didn’t even bother them. Jungles and plains and forests passed below them, the colors so vivid they didn’t seem real. For miles and miles, nothing but nature sprawled out in front of them, and they couldn’t help but wonder exactly where they were going. 

The calm voice alerted them that they were reaching their destination, and both of them straightened up as they tried to spot any place that looked like this jet belonged there. They could see nothing but treetops, even when they stood and moved closer to the front window. There seemed to be a shimmer in front of them, and a noise like a pop underwater sounded around them, making them stand to attention. Out of nowhere, a bustling city unfolded in front of them, with other flying jets winding between towering buildings. The shift sent another shock through Bucky’s brain, and Steve grabbed him to hold him up as the plane headed towards the largest tower. Now, T’Challa’s words made sense. 

“What the fuck?” Bucky whispered, and Steve laughed in agreement. All their pain from the fights were forgotten as they tried to see everything all at once, and they ignored the gentle voice asking them to sit and prepare for landing. They didn’t know why the voice kept giving them safety instructions, considering the ride was much smoother than any aircraft they’d ever ridden in. It gently circled a large platform and set down lightly, and out the front window they saw as a middle aged woman in white and a teenage girl in attire that could best be defined as  _ funky _ came out to meet them. The older woman, obviously the matriarch, watched them descend to the platform with a regal air, but the girl (they assumed her daughter, T’Challa’s sister) had a grin on her face that was by no means professional. 

“Captain Steven Rogers? Sergeant James Barnes?” the queen asked, and Steve and Bucky found themselves deflating in her presence. Bucky tried to stand on his own, but it was soon evident that he still needed to lean on Steve, despite their audience. This was an actual queen that they were speaking with, and a queen that was offering them solace. It was a humbling experience.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Steve said reverently, and they both wondered if they should bow. Her facade broke then, and she gave them a very motherly smile. 

“You may call me Ramonda, and this is my daughter, Shuri. Come. T’Challa has given me all the details, and it sounds like you have been through a great ordeal.” she said, gesturing for them to follow her. Shuri fell into step next to her mother, but kept glancing back at them as if they were a science experiment that she was dying to inspect. 

“I’m very sorry about the King.” Bucky said, somehow still feeling like it was his fault even though he knew he had nothing to do with the late king’s passing. Ramonda was silent for a moment, her lips pressed together. 

“Thank you. But you are not to blame.” she said. Her voice was slightly strained, and he could tell this wasn’t the situation she wanted to be in, but she was going to listen to the new king and make the best of it.

“Is your arm hurting you?” Shuri piped up, sounding younger than she looked. Ramonda pinched her elbow, but she ignored it, turning to walk backwards so she could talk to them. Her impatience had finally run out.

“A bit.” Bucky replied. He remembered one time Mika asking him the same question, and he’d lied and said no. But considering the random spasms going through his body and the occasional spark flying from the stump, he didn’t think he could pull the off the fib this time. They entered the large building to find a group of people in crisp, white clothing waiting for them. The man in the middle stepped forward, greeting the queen and the princess before turning to them.

“Hello, my name is Lwazi. Allow me to show you to the medical wing.” he said. Ramonda gestured for them to follow him now, lightly saying,

“I leave you in these capable hands now. I will return to you when T’Challa arrives.” She stayed in place and watched them as they walked by, and they could hear her argue briefly with Shuri before the girl came jogging up next to them, using a bead on her bracelet to scan what was left of Bucky’s prosthetic.

“What is this made of? How long have you had it? What process did they use to attach it? Were they able to salvage most of the synapses? What’s the minimal sensory threshold?” she rattled off questions, only pausing when a particularly large spark jumped out at her.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know any of that. I just woke up with it.” he said. He was incredibly grateful for their help, but now was not the time for him to relive the moment he got his arm.

“Why did you choose the star? I can recreate it, if you want-” 

“No. I didn’t choose it.” he said shortly. She had a shocked look on her face, and it became painfully aware to him that he was not only speaking to a princess, but a child. “I’m sorry, Princess. The people who gave me this prosthetic...it was not by choice.” 

“I see.” she said, obviously not knowing what to say now that she knew a little bit of what she was dealing with. Bucky could barely handle interacting with adults, let alone a teenager, and he wracked his brain for something to say to make her feel better.

“You’re more than welcome to take it off and mess with it, if you want. I obviously have no use for it anymore.” he said, moving what was left of the shoulder and giving the cheekiest grin he could muster given the situation. Her bright smile returned, and she started scanning it again.

“Well I’m afraid it’s going to have to come off regardless, my scans show a horrendous infection underneath it.” she said, her brows furrowing. He shrugged, the motion causing another lightning bolt of pain to go through him. Lwazi had Bucky sit down on a bed along a wall, the first of a long line of them. He showed Steve to the next one. With no obvious emergent injuries and the ability to walk on his own, Shuri was not as worried about him. Instead, she focused on Bucky, and the puzzle that he presented.

“Thank you. For your help.” he said quietly. Another person in white passed by, handing her a tablet before continuing on their way. She gave him another bright smile, but he could tell she was thinking of other things.

“Of course. Now, do you have any other concerns besides this?” she said, tapping his shoulder with an instrument and jumping back as a whole slew of sparks flew from it. Bucky gave a dry laugh, thinking of the pain that had been radiating from the back of his head ever since he woke of from the nightmare of yesterday morning. 

“Nothing that you would be able to help with.” he said, making her straighten up and look mildly offended. 

“Excuse me?” she asked, reminding Bucky exactly how much attitude teenage girls tended to have. 

“Not discounting your talents, just…” he struggled to find his words. “Whatever they put in my head, the words that bring out the Winter Soldier...I don’t think  _ anyone _ can get them out.”

“I’m not just  _ anyone _ .” she said. Ah yes, she didn’t have attitude. She had  _ moxie _ . She moved in front of him, and he closed his eyes as she used her bracelet to scan his head. He opened his eyes when the lights faded to find her staring at the tablet, her brows furrowed as she analyzed the data. Bits of video flashed on the screen, and he recognized it as fragments of memories. He saw the blood trail from his arm, the scientists, the Machine. He dropped his eyes to the floor after he noticed Shuri’s filling with tears, not wanting to face her. It was hard enough to talk to Mika about his past, let alone a stranger that was one sixth his age. “I can fix this.”

“It’s alright, I know-” he stopped as her words sank in. “What?” 

She sniffled and wiped one tear from her cheek, but her voice was strong as she said, “It’ll take me some time to configure my equipment - actually, I may have to engineer something new - but I can fix this.”

“How?” he asked dumbly. His body had gone completely numb; he didn’t want to hedge all his bets on this girl, but he was quickly becoming hopeful, more hopeful than he’d allowed himself to be in a long time.

“Your body, it’s still fighting it. It’s been fighting it the whole time.” she said, tapping a few places on the tablet and bringing up a simulation of his brain. Laced through the entirety of it was a red line, threaded through the different areas of his cortex. “See that? That’s what they put in there.”

“It’s everywhere.” he said, his heart sinking. All this time, he thought he was getting better, but there was still so much in him. How could he ever think about being a normal person when his mind was still plagued with the evil from Hydra? How could he ever let himself be alone with Mika again when his mind was just a ticking time bomb?

“But it’s  _ separate _ .” she said, as if that meant something. When he seemed unimpressed with her statement, she continued, “As long as it’s separate, I can cut it out. Its borders are regular. It’s removable.” 

“Are you serious?” he asked. Her explanation made sense, and while initially he didn’t believe she had the technology, she’d made it more than clear that she did. His mouth had gone dry, and he held his breath as he waited for her answer.

“Completely.” she said. “You won’t have to live with this anymore, Sergeant Barnes.” 

He didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing though no words were coming out. She seemed to enjoy this reaction, smirking as she tapped away on the tablet some more. With this offer on the table, a whole world of possibilities were open to him. But all he could think about was Mika. No more worrying about hurting her with his arm, no more losing sleep thinking that someone could make him turn on a dime. He could finally let go of the worst of his past, and move on to his future.

“It will take me a few days, so I’ll set you up in an apartment. And then as soon as I get it all situated, we can begin.” she said, practically bouncing with her excitement. This girl obviously liked challenges, and this one was unlike anything she’d ever seen. “In the mean time, let me get someone to take care of this shoulder, and I’ll create a vibranium cap to seal it.”

“Thank you.” Bucky said, unable to think of anything to say besides that. Shuri nodded again, stepping away and going over to Steve to talk to him. Lwazi came back to him then, armed with a tray of tools that looked like they belonged in a mechanic shop rather than a medical bay. He was a professional man of few words, for which Bucky was grateful. He was tired, and hurting, and wanted a few minutes to just be lost in his own thoughts. Lwazi carefully cauterized the wires sticking out from the remnant of his arm, and was somehow able to do so without sending waves of pain through him. In fact, the arm felt better than it had since...it was his own.

Over an hour later, T’Challa returned with the queen. He was no longer in his Black Panther suit, instead just regular clothing, though he maintained the black motif. Steve stood up to shake his hand and greet him, and while Bucky did shake his hand, he had to remain stationary so that he did not mess up Lwazi’s hard work. A man behind him handed Bucky his backpack and placed Steve’s gear on his bed, waiting for a nod from T’Challa before leaving them.

“How are you feeling?” T’Challa asked him directly. Based on the look on his face, Bucky looked like a right mess. But he nodded and tried to smile encouragingly.

“Better than I have in a long time.” he said honestly. “How did it go? In Berlin?” 

“As well as could be expected.” T’Challa said. “They asked about you.”

“And what did you say?” Steve asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, he only sounded like he wanted to make sure their stories were straight. T’Challa shrugged.

“I told them that I was not concerned about you. I was after my father’s murderer, and I found him.” he said. It was technically the truth, though Steve knew they would not leave him alone for long. 

“And what about...our friends?” Bucky asked, though again Steve knew exactly who he was worried about. The King sighed then. 

“I’m afraid they are imprisoned in a place called the Raft. Highest level of security, built to house enhanced beings.” he said, and Steve crossed his arms and huffed.

“Just as I thought. Damn.” he said, shaking his head. If Steve was worried about this place, then Bucky definitely was. Mika was trapped with super criminals? Even if he didn’t trust his own mind, he’d much rather have her here than there. But as worried as they were, T’Challa was smirking.

“I didn’t say it was impossible to get into. It’ll just take a little work.” he said. Steve stood up a little straighter then, his face showing that he was ready to leave at that moment.

“When can I go?” he asked. Bucky could see the plan forming in his head; take the quinjet, now that T’Challa had returned with it. Go to the Raft. Retrieve everyone. 

“You won’t be going alone, Captain Rogers.” T’Challa said. Bucky nodded, sliding off the table despite Lwazi’s protests. 

“I’m ready. I need to save Mika.” he said, though every joint in his body protested and his arm started screaming at him again. 

“No. You will sit back down and let me finish my work.” Lwazi said sharply, making even Bucky pause. “Do  _ you _ want to deal with the Princess?”

Bucky thought about it for a moment, but remembered that Shuri was offering him literally everything he wanted. “No. Sorry.” He sat back down, looking at Steve apologetically.

“Don’t worry, Sergeant Barnes. I meant I would be joining him.” T’Challa said, and Bucky let out a sigh of relief. He’d seen T’Challa fight, and knew that if he could depend on anyone beside Steve, it would be him. And if he was still playing the both of them, he was doing it so convincingly that Bucky wouldn’t be mad. He would probably just be impressed. The King looked to Steve. “Ready when you are, sir.”

“Let’s go. They’ve been in there too long already.” Steve said. He put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’ll get her back for you.”

“Thank you.” he breathed. He didn’t like just sitting here, didn’t like waiting around while someone else was working. He didn’t want Steve’s face to be the first one Mika saw after her imprisonment. But they were all correct; now was not the time for him to be running off into battle. No matter how much he hated it, he had to stay here. Steve and T’Challa left then, leaving Bucky alone.

“Don’t worry. She’ll only have eyes for you.” Lwazi said, bringing Bucky back down to earth. He let out a laugh; he’d forgotten the man was there.

“How can you be so sure?” he asked. This time, it was the older man’s turn to chuckle.

“Because women are too good for us, son.” he said shortly, his eyes never moving from the wiring in front of him. Bucky could tell he was nearly done, as his nerves were quieter than they’d been in seventy years. 

“I won’t argue with that.” he replied. He always believed that Mika was too good for him, and the past seventy-two hours only confirmed that. He would understand if she wanted to leave, but he’d be beyond elated if she decided to stay. The buzzing stopped next to him, and Lwazi pushed back and admired his work.

“I believe it’s all finished. I’ll go fetch the Princess.” he said, standing up and leaving without waiting for a response from Bucky. Bucky waited for a few moments, taking stock of how his arm felt, before eyeing his backpack. He hadn’t looked at it besides when he fished his old uniform out from it earlier that morning. He wondered if the weapons were still inside it, or if the King had confiscated them when he pulled it from the jet. He opened the main pocket to find everything as it was, but something was different about the front pocket. He unzipped it and out fell the weathered red journal, the star on the front mocking him. His blood ran cold as he picked it up; after so many decades of seeing it, this was the first time he was holding it. Why was it in his pack? Did Sharon put it there? Had she thought it was his, or had it been lumped together in evidence under the box labeled “Winter Soldier”? He thumbed through the pages, his breathing shallow as he took in details about himself that he’d never considered. And then he reached a page simply labeled  _ Activation _ .

At the very sight of the word  _ longing _ , the back of his head started prickling. He slammed the book shut, throwing it to the side and putting his hand over his eyes. This was not what he needed to think about right now. He needed to be positive. Shuri was going to fix this, fix  _ him _ . She was going to erase everything, and he was going to be able to live his life again. He could stay with Mika, if she would have him. 

He didn’t want to think about Mika, alone and scared in that super prison. But he knew Steve was going to get her, so he continued to try and think of all the good times they had together. He thought of her giggles when she had a bit too much wine, of her hand tucked in his pocket when they walked outside on cold days, and her humming as she kneaded bread on the counter. So many good memories were coming back to him now, and if everything worked out, then they would be able to make more. 

Shuri came back then, carrying a black cloth with her. She was smiling brightly, like a girl who had a secret. That was never a good look, and Bucky watched her from the corner of his eye as she started measuring the area around his shoulder.

“So. Word around the lab is you have a girlfriend.” she said in a teasing manner, and Bucky sighed. 

“Seems I can’t trust Lwazi with any secrets.” he replied, and he eyes flew up to his.

“So it’s true then? Is it the girl from your memories?” she asked, clamping her mouth shut and eyes going wide as she realized that the question actually had come out of her mouth. Bucky gave her a startled look; he knew she’d seen some of his memories, but he when it came to Mika he was only worried about certain ones.

“Exactly which memories did you see?” he asked lowly, and Shuri held her hands up in innocence.

“Nothing inappropriate, I promise.” she said, going back to her measurements of his shoulder. With some sort of pen, she started cutting and fusing the cloth she brought with her. “Honestly, I thought you just had a wild crush on Wonder Woman.” 

“She’s much prettier than Wonder Woman.” he said immediately. Her friends loved to make fun of her for looking like the superhero from the movies, and he tended to join in occasionally as well. But if someone else didn’t bring it up, he often forgot about the comparison. Shuri smiled at his statement.

“Well I can’t wait to meet her.” she said, slipping the cap onto his arm. A cool sensation spread through him then, and he wondered if this was what normal people felt like all the time. She patted him carefully. “There we go. All set.”

“Princess?” he asked before she could leave. She looked up at him with quizzical eyes, wondering where he was going with this.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice tender. 

“Do you...have a cryo chamber?” He didn’t want to go back under the ice, but there was a chance that he was going to have to. Shuri looked confused, her head cocked to the side.

“It hasn’t been used in a while, but yes, we do. Why?” she asked. She didn’t think anyone would voluntarily go into it; they used to use it for patients that needed more time, ones that were in emergent situations but required equipment that she hadn’t invented yet. She hadn’t touched it in at least a year.

“Just checking. For safety.” he admitted. She nodded, chewing on her lip for a moment before speaking.

“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that.” she said. For sixteen, she carried herself with incredible countenance. “Now come on, let me show you to the lab apartment. You’re in desperate need of a cleanup if your  _ girlfriend _ is on her way here.”

She started walking off, assuming Bucky would follow her. He was afraid the pain from earlier was going to come back as he slid to his feet, but since his body no longer had to deal with the strain from his shoulder, it was able to heal most of the rest of him. He walked after Shuri as she led him to an escalator, taking him up to an apartment. His heart started beating a little harder as he realized that Mika really and truly was on her way here. He looked down, noting the blood and tears along his Hydra uniform.

Shuri was right. He needed to clean up. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. the Wonder Woman joke is honestly for myself cause in my head, Mika is played by Gal Gadot! (let me know if you were envisioning someone else!)


	46. New Horizons

Mika tried everything to keep her mind occupied. She took a nap, did some yoga, learned a few colloquialisms in English from Sam, and counted the bars that crossed the front of her cell. Twice. And all of that took about six hours. God, the next twenty years were going to be  _ boring _ . 

She was just wondering if they would ever let them have books or movies or  _ anything _ to entertain themselves (what about those people who earned degrees from prison? Or wrote novels?) when the power fluctuated, making the lights flicker and the air conditioner sputter. She stood up from where she was lying on the floor, hesitantly moving to the front of the cell. 

“Anyone else see that?” Scott asked the room, also curiously looking around.

“We’re in an impenetrable prison submerged under water. I have a feeling that’s gonna happen more often than not.” Clint deadpanned from where he was laying on his cot. He’d been in that position for a long time, and Mika wondered how long he was going to stay there. When the lighting stayed steady, she deflated, going back to her own cot and laying down. She could hear Sam pacing next door, his footsteps slow and steady. That’s what he’d been doing basically the whole time they’d been there. The rhythm was almost soothing, giving her a perfect distraction from thinking about everything that had gone wrong in the past few days.

Soon she realized that Sam’s footsteps were not the only ones sounding through the chamber. At first she thought it was Scott, or maybe even Clint, but then she realized that the second set of steps was not coming from their cell block. No, it was coming from the stairs. It wasn’t a meal time, and the guard rounds were every twelve hours, so they weren’t due for another three or so. Who else would be coming all the way down here?

When Steve finally stepped into the light, she nearly cried with relief. Everyone else stood as well, and she could tell they were wondering if he was really there or if they were filtering some sort of hallucinogen through the air ducts. Mika was speechless, smiling brightly at him as he met each of their eyes and gave them a cheeky grin. She tried to look past him to see if Bucky was with him, but he seemed to be alone. Maybe he was upstairs, taking care of the security guards? Or on the quinjet, ready to make a quick getaway? She tried to think of every possible scenario, because there was no way he wouldn’t be okay. Steve wouldn’t be looking at her like that if he wasn’t. 

“You guys look like you could use a hand.” he said, his voice echoing in the quiet chamber. He pressed a button on some sort of device on his wrist, and the cell lights flickered again before the bars slowly slid into the wall. She pushed her way out of the cell before the door was completely open, jumping onto Steve like a long lost friend - which, really, that’s what it felt like. Prison made her soft like that.

“Where’s Bucky? Is he okay?” she asked once he put her down. He hesitated before giving her a half smile, and her heart nearly stopped beating as she anticipated the worst.

“He’s okay. He’s alive, and he’ll be fine. But he did get hurt.” he explained, trying to give her enough information to assuage her fears without oversharing the details. Her heart started beating again, hammering painfully against her sternum.

“Hurt? What happened? Where is he? Who’s taking care of him?” she asked her questions quickly, not giving him time to answer them. He opened his mouth, but Sam cut him off, carefully directing her towards the door.

“I understand your worry, but he can tell you all of this on the way. I have a feeling we need to make a quick exit.” he said, and Steve nodded in agreement.

“That would be correct.” came a voice from the door, T’Challa fully decked out in his Black Panther gear. “Captain, we need to be moving.”

“On it.” Steve said, gesturing for the rest of them to file out of the room while he removed Wanda’s restraints. She exhaled sharply as her arms were released, shaking them out and stretching them back.

“God, that was  _ horrible. _ ” she said, popping all of her joints as she moved.

“That collar is going to take something a little more...hands on. We’ll have to look at it later.” Steve said as they finally started climbing up the stairs. Mika followed Sam, keeping her eyes as sharp as possible for anyone who might impede their escape. She certainly had some hesitations about escaping arrest for the second time in a few days, but if Captain America was the one breaking them out, then surely it was okay, right? Besides, this prison was far too advanced for someone like her, and twenty years a completely unfair sentence. At least, that was her humble opinion.

The guards in the security room were still out cold as they ran through, sprinting across the open area of the roof and into the waiting aircraft. It wasn’t the quinjet they’d stolen from the Berlin airport; this one was way more high tech, almost alien in its advancement. Mika couldn’t help but gasp as they stepped onto it, the inside whirring to life and voice casually instructing them to take a seat. It responded to a few key touches from T’Challa, who set its destination before removing his helmet and coming to sit next to Mika.

“I do not know you.” he said, giving her a kind smile. It was night and day compared to the person she’d seen on the news before. She was afraid to trust him at first, but she knew she could count on Steve, and if Steve was running around with him then it had to be okay.

“Mika Corsof, your...uh...king?” she said, unsure of how to address him and forgetting the word in English that she really wanted. His smile grew wider, as if he understood her struggle with the language barrier. 

“T’Challa is fine.” he said. “You were...trying to help Sergeant Barnes?” He phrased it as a question, but it sounded more like an observation. She bit her lip for a second and dropped her eyes, going to pick at her nail polish but finding nothing left. So instead she clasped her fingers together and steeled her resolve to look back up to him.

“Yes, I was. I’m very sorry about...everything.” she said. She didn’t know all the details, but she knew about the fight he’d had with Bucky, and knew that his father had passed in the explosion they said Bucky set. That was what made her so reluctant to trust him, even if all signs pointed to an alliance. He nodded his head.

“Thank you. It has been a very trying time for all of us.” he said everything in a calm tone, and Mika wondered if that was him as a person or if it was all the preparation he’d gotten before he became king. 

“Where are you taking us?” she asked, unable to hide the tremble in her voice. He seemed to realize her train of thought, and sat back slightly to give her a little space.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to make it seem like you were going from one prison to another.” he said, which of course made Mika feel like a right jackass.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t - I’m just - I don’t know what’s going on.” she said, panicking and hoping she didn’t offend the king that had so graciously offered them help. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” he said, laughing at her stuttering and her honesty. “There has been enough pain in the world. I’m just trying to put some good back into it.”

“So...where are we going?” she asked, this time her voice much lighter, and her smile much brighter. She was still nervous as hell, but at least she knew that things were better than she thought. He grinned back at her.

“My home, Wakanda. Don’t worry, Sergeant Barnes is waiting there for you.” he said, his tone teasing. For a king, he was very down to earth. For all her distrust a few minutes before, Mika found that she liked him. A lot. She hoped that they would be friends. She jumped at his mention of Bucky.

“So you’ve seen him? He’s alright? I know Steve said he’d be okay but he got hurt and-” she stopped, pressing her lips together. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I have seen him. He was hurt, but they were making a plan the last time I saw him. Don’t worry, we have our best physician looking after him.” T’Challa explained, and once again Mika found her heart warming towards this man she barely knew.

“Thank you. I can’t...I don’t know what to say. Or...or how to repay you.” she said. She suddenly felt very small, and very grateful. He shook his head.

“Don’t worry about that. I just want to undo as much of what Zemo did as possible.” he said. With that, he stood up and moved back to the front of the plane, going to talk to Steve in low voices. She watched them for a moment before she was interrupted by Sam leaning over to her.

“Think we can trust him?” he murmured, though based on the look on his face, he’d already made up his mind.

“I don’t think we have a choice.” she said, still trying to seem tough. Sam let out a huff of a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into (the admittedly, very comfortable and ergonomic) seat. 

“You gonna be alright, Meeks.” he said, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes. She thought it might be wise to do the same, but she still had too much nervous energy. So she sat with her legs crossed, foot bobbing in midair as she watched through the windshield as they made their way back to Wakanda. Besides the obvious things to be concerned about, she also didn’t know how Bucky was going to be when she got there. Sure, everyone kept telling her that he was okay, but she of all people knew how well he could hide his emotions when he wanted to. And she also knew exactly how much of a toll the past couple days had taken on him. 

It was well past dark by the time they passed through the border, Mika immediately perking up as the entirety of Wakanda unfolded in front of them. Her breath caught at the brilliant lights of the main city, twinkling in the distance like Christmas lights. She could see T’Challa looking at her out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see him grinning at her reaction. She looked back around to their other fugitives; Sam and Scott were asleep, and Clint seemed unimpressed, but Wanda looked just as astounded as she felt. 

“Welcome to Wakanda.” he said, tapping a few more controls as they neared the largest building in the city center. The friendly voice warned them of their impending arrival, the craft slowly and gently landing on a large platform. The touch down was so soft she actually had to wake Sam, who was still sleeping peacefully next to her. He was just as surprised by Wakanda as she was, letting out a few choice words under his breath as he took it all in. A very regal woman greeted them as they exited the plane, and when T’Challa greeted her, she thought she heard him refer to her as “mother.” She introduced herself to all of them, and she was possibly the most graceful and  _ lovely _ person that Mika had ever seen. But even then, her eyes were sharp, and spoke of a strength and intelligence that she’d never seen in another woman. It was amazing. 

Behind the queen stood a group wearing all white, looking very formal indeed. She told them that these people would lead them to their quarters, that they would have whatever they needed, and to let them know if anything was missing. They were supposed to follow the people in white, but Mika found herself dragging her feet, looking through every window and down every hallway to see if she could find Bucky. Where was he? Steve noticed her vague panic, and whispered something to T’Challa, who then called out to her. 

“Mika, come this way.” he said, gesturing with his head down the opposite hallway. She quickly followed him, not paying attention to the rest of the people behind them. He led her towards a wide staircase, spiraling upwards. The glass walls showed the medical bay and what looked like a multilevel research lab. Perhaps, if it was another day, she would be more curious and ask more questions. But right now, she was only focused on going up the stairs, hopefully to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes is staying here, in the lab apartment my sister built. That way it is easier to monitor him.” 

“I can’t thank you enough, T’Challa.” Mika said again, not knowing what else to say to the now king. He apparently didn’t know how to respond either, simply nodding. “Is he...is he awake?” She was afraid, after his statement about a plan and easy monitoring, that she was about to find him comatose in a bed, hooked up to all sorts of machines. But perhaps that was because of all the medical dramas she watched. 

“Yes, he is. I fear Captain Rogers made his status sound much more dire than it is.” he explained, and she let out a sigh of relief. It was the first thing she’d been told that actually made her feel better about the situation. They rounded the corner onto the final level, the stairs opening up into a wide living area, decorated with colorful patterns and comfortable looking furniture. A couple hallways sprouted off the main room, and on the opposite side of the stairs was a large kitchen. There, at the stove, stood Bucky, carefully pouring what looked like a cup of coffee. She stopped and stared, honestly wondering if she was dreaming. He was dressed in a white tank top and sweatpants, the light clothing so different compared to the dark, drab wardrobe she was used to seeing him in. He heard them as they arrived; when he turned, she could visibly see him stop breathing. “You must be tired. I’ll leave you two.” T’Challa said, going back down the stairs without waiting for a response from them. 

Bucky put down the coffee pot, his eyes never leaving hers. He, too, wondered if this was a dream, taking a step towards her. That was all the encouragement she needed, running across the short space and jumping onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tightly. He crushed her to his chest, trying to quell the rush of emotions that threatened to overflow. He hadn’t been expecting to see her here so soon, or without warning. Normally he hated surprises, but this was one that he was okay with. She pulled back, her eyes scanning him for injuries and immediately zeroing in on his shoulder. 

“Your arm…” she whispered, her fingers lightly touching the black cap Shuri had put over the remaining prosthetic. He put his hand on her cheek, turning her attention back to his face.

“Good riddance.” he said. She gave him a sad smile, her hands sliding down his chest to rest on his waist. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“No, no I’m fine.” she said, shaking her head. “But you’re obviously not.”

“I will be.” he said, sounding much more confident than he felt. He thought of what Shuri told him the day before, about her scan of his brain and what she thought she could do about it. He didn’t know if he should tell Mika, and risk getting her hopes up there with his own. 

“Don’t tell me it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever been through.” she said, giving him a stern look. He laughed lowly, shaking his head. 

“I’ll be fine. The king and the princess...there’s a plan. To take care of this,” he moved his shoulder, only a vague ache coming from it. “and possibly...what’s in my head.”

Mika’s jaw dropped. “They can really do that?” she asked, her tone so optimistic that he immediately regretted telling her. 

“They’re going to try.” he said, trying to keep her from staking too much in a possibility. She bounced on her toes, trying and failing to keep her excitement under wraps.

“But still. There’s a chance. A chance for you to finally be free.” she said, running her fingers through his hair. He couldn’t help but notice that she referred only to him and not to the two of them together, and he wondered if that was on purpose or not. Even if he knew he deserved it, he was still afraid that she would decide to leave. He was sure she’d had plenty of time to think things over while incarcerated, and there was a very real chance that she had come to the conclusion that the risks with him were too great. But when he looked at her face and how lovingly she gazed at him, he felt those worries melt away - at least for the time being.

“There’s a chance.” he agreed, not willing to give it any more than that. She smiled at him, her hand reaching for his and intertwining their fingers. 

“Are you going to make me sleep by myself tonight?” she asked quietly. She knew any sort of romantic funny business was out of the question, but that didn’t matter to her right now. She wanted to wash the past few days off of her, and she wanted to fall asleep next to Bucky. They could deal with anything else tomorrow.

“I suppose not.” he said lowly. He felt alright, certainly better than he had the past couple days. Perhaps, between the exhaustion and the deprogramming of his arm, everything would be fine. She squeezed his hand.

“Good. I’m going to go shower, and then I think we deserve to sleep in tomorrow.” she said. He smiled and agreed, directing her towards the bathroom before picking up his cup of coffee and sipping it idly. The blend was certainly different than anything they had back home, but he thought she would like it. He finished the cup just as she finished her shower, and once she was dressed they were able to curl up in the soft bed and finally fall asleep.

He should have known better, of course. The first few hours, exhaustion overtook him. But once his body had regenerated enough, the nightmares took hold. This time, it wasn’t a specific memory. No, this time, it was much worse, as he lived through flashes over and over of Mika dying at his hand. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it, watching each time as the light left her eyes. He startled awake to her calling his name, and he sat up rapidly. He was having trouble breathing, sweat pouring over him. He went to wipe it away, forgetting for a moment that he no longer had a left hand. His right one was tangled in the sheets, a large rip now down the middle of them. His heart sunk as he realized he’d also managed to grab the tail of Mika’s shirt, and the early morning light allowed him to see her pale skin showing from underneath the split in the fabric.

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” she said soothingly. She looked vaguely confused, as one often did when awoken suddenly, but she didn’t seem scared. But he was. This was just another tally on the times he could have hurt her, and he did not want to add any more.

“It’s not okay.” he said, his joints popping as he loosened his hand from its entanglement and pushed his hair out of his face. She put a hand on his back, her touch cool against his hot skin. “Everything is still too close to the surface. They still have too much of a hold on me.”

“You just need some time, and some rest. And then, when the king figures out what to do-” she tried to calm him, but he was resolute in his decision.

“I have to go back into the ice.” he said, his tone tired and resigned. He didn’t want to leave her again, but he wouldn’t allow the risk anymore. There had been too many close calls in the past few days; he was not going to wait and see how much luck they had before it ran out. 

“No you don’t, we can just...we can…” her tired brain scrambled for an excuse, or a solution, anything that would mean he didn’t have to endure that again. He shook his head, hesitating for a moment before putting his hand on her knee.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Mika’s stomach started churning, and again she got the strange sense of foreboding that she usually got before break ups. Nothing good came from conversations that started like that.

“Of course.” she said, trying to appear more confident than she felt. A million questions ran through her mind, each of them more heartbreaking and ridiculous than the last, as she waited for him to speak again.

“Do you still want to be with me? After everything that’s happened?” he asked, and his eyes were so serious that she felt like time stopped for a second. She reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear so that he could see her properly as she said,

“Yes. I do.” She wanted to add a quip about how she was officially a fugitive now and she’d be limited, but knew now was not the time. She pressed her lips together, keeping herself from rambling. “Do you still want to be with me?”

“Yes.” he said, quickly and boldly. “But I can’t hurt you again. That’s why I have to go back under.”

“But your definition of ‘hurting’ me and my definition are a little different.” she pointed out. Even if she was losing this battle, she was not going to go down without a fight. He let out an annoyed sigh, shaking his head. 

“I will concede the bruises on your hip.” he said, reaching and pulling her shirt so that the large hole was even more evident. “But this? I can’t even trust myself to sleep around you. I want to be with you more than anything, but not until we know that I’m safe.”

Her heart sank, but she could see his point. Sometimes, when they discussed things, she knew she had a chance of winning. But this time, she knew that he would not give in. And she knew that it would be selfish of her to ask him to, when he was the one suffering. 

“I understand.” she whispered. “Whatever you think is best, I’ll support you. And I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Thank you.” he said, sounding tremendously relieved. The sun poked over the horizon, bathing their room in a warm orange light. She rubbed his back again, trying to mollify him.

“Go shower. I’ll make coffee.” she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He caught her hand as she moved away, tugging her back so that he could get a real, proper kiss. He couldn’t help but feel like their time was limited, even though he was trying desperately to trust in Shuri and her intellect. She smiled and pushed off the bed, going into the kitchen even though she really wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. But that’s what the coffee would be for. She could sleep when Bucky did. 

Breakfast was quiet, taken on the balcony overlooking the city. She felt a little bit like they were on vacation, the warmth of the morning and the smell from the new place making time slow down. They drank coffee and ate what they could find as they watched the world wake up below them, a million people they didn’t know off to do jobs they couldn’t imagine. Wakanda had incredible technology, technology that was advanced and foreign and beyond her comprehension. When the sun was fully risen and the world very much alive, they knew their time was up. They dressed in the clothing that was left for them and started down the stairs towards the medical bay. She took his hand confidently, determined that they would be together until he finally went under. 

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes.” a man in white greeted them, making Mika perk an eyebrow. Sergeant Barnes, eh? How formal. She’d have to remember that later. 

“Bucky.” he corrected him, trying to give him a polite smile. He nodded in response. “Is Lwazi in yet? Or the Princess?”

“The Princess won’t be here until later, but I can fetch Lwazi for you. The King is also here as well.” the man replied, turning on his heel and walking away without further conversation. Mika was surprised at that, expecting things to be a little difficult.

“So you’re known around here, hm?” she asked, giving him a cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes.

“It’s a medical ward. Everyone knows everything here.” he said, though she wasn’t sure that was entirely true. A few moments later, Lwazi came weaving through the busy room, a look of concern on his face.

“Everything alright with the arm?” he asked, going to pull the cap off of Bucky’s shoulder. He allowed him to, even if that wasn’t the issue. 

“Yes, yes it feels fine, but…” Bucky wasn’t quite sure how to phrase the request. “The Princess mentioned a cryo chamber…”   


“You want to be frozen.” he said, filling in the blanks. Bucky sighed, nodding. It wasn’t so much that he  _ wanted _ to be frozen, just that it was the best choice for them at that moment. He couldn’t hurt anybody if he was kept under. 

“It’s what would be safest for everyone, until the Princess can figure out how to remove the sh-stuff from my head. If she can.” he explained, making the older man grin.

“Don’t let her hear you say the word ‘if.’ She finds it insulting.” he said, directing him to a nearby gurney. His eyes landed on Mika. “You must be the girl.”

“Mika.” she introduced herself, holding a hand out to shake. She was a bit surprised that he knew about their relationship, given Bucky’s tendency to keep his personal life under his hat. Perhaps he was right - everyone in this wing knew everything.

“Lwazi. I will be assisting in this young man’s recovery.” he explained, going to hook up machines and run Bucky’s vitals. He tapped a few spots on a tablet before shoving it off to the side. She let out a snort.

“He’s not as young as he would appear.” she said, teasing. Bucky glared at her, though the anger didn’t quite make it through.

“Watch it.” was all he said. Lwazi cleared his throat, trying to stifle a laugh at their interaction and instead focus on getting all the information he needed and preparing him for the cryo. He only paused to formally greet T’Challa as he strode up to them, dressed in traditional black robes this time instead of the Black Panther suit.

“So. Cryogenic stasis.” he said by way of greeting, his voice suggesting that he didn’t agree with the plan. Bucky nodded, looking down at the floor instead of at the king. T’Challa looked at him for a long moment before straightening up. “Very well. I’ll go get Captain Rogers, he was asking after you.” 

“Thank you.” Bucky murmured, still not looking at him as he walked away. Mika reached for his hand, holding it tightly as Lwazi continued his work. As they sat in silence, two men delivered a giant glass tube, depositing it before them. So, this would be where Bucky would sleep until they could figure out how to fix him. Lwazi finished one final wrap of the wounds on his hand and one last scan of his shoulder before giving them both a polite nod and going to the machine. 

“So this is it.” Mika said, trying not to cry even though she really wanted to. She could cry later, where no one could see her. Right now she had to be supportive. 

“This is it.” he said. She looked to either side of them, finding that everyone was briefly distracted, and took the moment to lean forward and give him a sound kiss. If he was going to go back into the ice, she would not let him go thinking of all the other times he’d been frozen; no, he would be thinking of her, and how she was waiting for him on the other side. When she pulled back, they said nothing more, instead just content to have these last final moments.

She spotted Steve across the room, looking very much like he was deciding whether or not he really needed to talk to Bucky at that moment. But since he was spotted, he couldn’t hide, and made his way over to them with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders slightly slumped. Now that he was out of his captain uniform, he looked like any other guy, coming to support his friend. 

“You sure about this?” he asked, directing the question at Bucky. Mika wondered if she should step away, give the two of them their moment as well, but Bucky’s hand stayed in hers and he showed no sign of letting go. 

“I can’t trust my own mind.” Bucky said, looking at Steve and giving a humorless laugh. “Until they find a way to get rid of whatever’s in here, I have to keep...everyone safe.” 

“Bucky, we’re ready now.” Lwazi said. With one last glance at the both of them, Bucky slid off the table and stepped into the cryo chamber. Mika wondered if they really needed to strap him down, but didn’t say anything. His eyes stayed towards the ceiling, and he took a deep breath before closing them, the glass panel sliding up over him. It was a startlingly brief time before the chamber whirred to life and ice crystalized over the glass. And just like that, Bucky was under. Mika crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep her emotions in check. Steve put an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm in a comforting manner and letting her know she wasn’t alone.

“He’ll be fine. He’s been through worse.” he said, making Mika laugh.

“I swear, sometimes it’s like you two share a brain.” she replied, thinking of all the times Bucky had said the same thing. One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin, and he nodded.

“Yea, we used to get that a lot.” he said, his voice nostalgic. Mika suddenly wanted to just sit and hear every story Steve had of their misadventures back in the day, if only to understand Bucky a little bit better. He looked over her head for a moment, then pulled away. “I’ll be right back. Will you be okay?”

“Yea, yea I’m just going to sit with him for a minute longer.” she said, noticing T’Challa waiting off to the side. She assumed he wanted to talk to Steve, and stayed out of earshot as he went to talk to him. She sat on the table Bucky had occupied previously, swinging her legs and watching the monitor that showed his slow, steady heart beat. She stayed there until two men in white came and wheeled him away to another part of the medical bay, taking him out of sight. T’Challa came up to her then, looking sympathetically somber.

“Would you like to meet the person who will be helping him?” he asked, and Mika found that she really did.

“Yes, please. Bucky said it was the Princess?” she asked. She was self conscious enough speaking to the King, and now she was going to meet a Princess as well. Not a big deal. T’Challa nodded, grinning mischievously.

“Yes. My sister. Now, don’t be surprised, she is probably younger than you anticipate.” he said, gesturing for her to follow him. She kept right on his heels as he moved out of the medical bay and back to the stairs, going up into another lab. This one was built into a massive supercomputer, with screens on every wall and multiple computer towers arranged along one side. In the middle of the room stood a girl facing away from them, dressed in colorful and quirky clothes and artfully arranged hair. She was surrounded by holographic projections, including a massive brain with a red thread running through it. 

“Shuri.” T’Challa called. Shuri did not look away from a long line of code in front of her, using her fingertips to move and shift pieces of it. Mika had never seen any code like it before. “Shuri!”

“What?!” she snapped, turning quickly. She immediately straightened when she saw the two of them, waving her hand and taking down the holograms. “I mean, yes, my King?”

“Oh stop it.” T’Challa said. “I wanted to introduce you to Mika.”

“Sergeant Barnes’ Wonder Woman!” she exclaimed, skipping off the platform and coming to meet them. “And here I thought you were just a figment of his imagination. He was right, you’re very pretty in person.”

“Shuri.” T’Challa said in the well-practiced warning tone of an older brother. Mika blushed, trying to hold back a bashful grin. “I wanted her to meet the person who would be helping him. She’s very worried.”

“Oh, no need to worry. I’ve almost got it figured out. Come see.” she said, grabbing Mika’s wrist and dragging her over to the platform. Shuri was a few inches shorter than she was, but she exuded a confidence and intelligence that made her seem taller. Mika loved her instantly. She pressed a bead on her bracelet and the holograms sprang to life again. Mika gazed at the running code, trying to see anything familiar in it.

“What script is this?” she asked, her brows furrowing. While none of the tags were familiar, she could certainly start to see the patterns. It was brilliant.

“This? Oh, I made it myself. Do you know code?” Shuri said, moving on from her own question and bringing her attention back to the big brain in front of them. “See, when Hydra originally put the virus in his brain, I assume they intended for it to connect and invade the host cells. But with the advanced healing, his brain was able to encase it and keep it separate. It literally developed new neurons in an effort to protect itself. So even though his brain still responded to the neurotransmitters they released, it isn’t completely embedded.”

“So you can remove it?” she asked, amazed at everything she was hearing. Shuri was clearly a genius, probably the smartest person she’d ever met. And she was so, so grateful that she was the one who would be helping Bucky.

“Yes, yes I can.” she said with a grin. Mika couldn’t help it, forgetting that the girl was a Princess and pulling her into a tight hug. Shuri was startled for a moment before gently laying her arms around Mika’s waist, hugging her back hesitantly. “You’re very affectionate with strangers.”

“I’m so sorry.” she said, springing back away from the Princess. “That was very rude of me, Princess, I’m apologize.”

“Don’t apologize, I understand.” Shuri said, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’m glad you stopped by, I’ve been wanting to explain this to somebody and T’Challa doesn’t like to listen.”

“Why not? This is incredible.” Mika said, her eyes going back to the code. “You wrote all this yourself?”

“Yes. I still need to alter the nanotech to seek out the icononeurons and fix the code so that it can seek it out automatically, although repeat scans show that the icononeurons tend to shift as well in an effort to fight off the host…” she stopped talking as Mika gave her a blank look. Talking about code? She could keep up with that. But once she brought biology into it, it became a little more difficult. It took her a second to catch up before she could contribute to the conversation.

“So you may have to do it manually.” she said, and Shuri looked surprised at that insight. 

“It’s a last resort, but hypothetically yes. I just like to make things automatic.” she replied, making Mika nod and look back at the code. The patterns were becoming more apparent now, though she still didn’t know what they meant. She realized she’d been staring at the screen too long, and looked back to the Princess. 

“Well um, thank you. For doing this for him. If there’s anything I can do to help…” she trailed off, looking at all the complicated technology around them. She was out of her depth. “Well, obviously it won’t be with anything like this but...any way I can, I will.” 

Shuri smiled and nodded. “I’m sure I can find something. In the mean time, you’re staying in the lab apartment, right?” 

“I’ll stay wherever you allow me to.” Mika said, holding her hands up. She was not in any position to be asking for any favors or questioning anything they gave her. Shuri clapped her hands together. 

“Good, so you’ll be close by. Not to worry, Wonder Woman, we’ll get the bad guys and bring back your knight in shining armor. Here, take this, it’ll let you in to where Sergeant Barnes will be sleeping. I’ll have Makima here show you where it is, so you can visit any time. And I’ll call you and keep you informed every step of the way.” she said, handing her a bracelet similar to her own. Mika carefully slipped it onto her wrist, the beads humming ever so slightly against her skin. She wanted to take them apart and see what made them work, but she would never take the risk of breaking them. 

“You’re amazing, has anyone ever told you that?” she asked. Shuri reminded her just a little bit of Nicoletta, though a much younger version. And one much better versed in science. Shuri flipped her braids over her shoulder.

“Not nearly enough. Now, off you go. I’ve got work to do.” she said, turning back to her screens. Mika looked to find another person in white that she didn’t know, this time an older woman, who smiled in a motherly manner and gestured for her to come with her. She led her towards the stairs, just outside the lab, and used her bracelet to scan her through a glass door. Three cryo chambers were there, two of them empty. Bucky was at the front of the line, closest to the door, and appeared to be sleeping peacefully. The monitor next to him still showed steady vitals, and Mika felt herself calm down a little more. Knowing that he was close by, and she could at least see him, certainly made her feel better. Makima left without a word, leaving her alone in the room. She knew it was silly to stay here, knew that there was no way Bucky knew she was here, but she couldn’t help but sit on a stool for a little bit, her hand resting on the cold glass.

“We’re gonna be okay, Bucky.” she whispered in Romanian. “We’re both gonna be okay.”


	47. Pieces

Mika didn’t expect it, but somehow she was able to sleep that night.

Perhaps it was the stress, or the pure exhaustion from the events over the past few days, or maybe there was a little something special about the tea she found in the cabinet (the package  _ did _ say “slumber” on it). The bed was cold without Bucky, but at least it was better than the stiff cot from the Raft, and the open windows let the warm breeze blow through and carry the gentle sounds of nighttime into the room. She woke early, earlier than usual and earlier than most everyone else it seemed, with the sky just beginning to lighten on the horizon. Her first thought was to go downstairs and visit Bucky, but her stomach growled loudly and reminded her that she barely ate anything the night before. She couldn’t cook, of course, but maybe she could find enough ingredients in the (surprisingly well stocked) kitchen to bake herself something. 

It took her a few slow minutes to figure out how to work the coffee machine, but soon she was rewarded with the sweet bliss of caffeine. It was certainly different than any coffee she’d had before, but it was rich and warm and seem to revive her from the inside out. Ah yes, if they didn’t end up staying here in Wakanda, she would certainly have to ask for a few bags of this to take with her. 

She paused, her cup held almost to her lips, as that thought struck her. What were they going to do now? She couldn’t just go back to Romania, back to her old job - she was a fugitive. Oh God, she’d actually, legitimately escaped from jail. This was bad. This was really bad. She put the mug down before she dropped it, instead pacing around the kitchen with her hands in her hair. She couldn’t go back home, but would she be allowed to stay here? What would she do for work? She was a software engineer by trade, but obviously the technology was completely different here. Would they allow her time to learn it, to catch up to everyone already beyond proficient in it? 

She felt the familiar pressure of panic bubbling up, threatening to overflow. This was usually when she would go for a run, just sprinting until she was too tired to freak out about her problems and instead find a way to solve them. But she was in a new place, with different roads, and Bucky wasn’t here to go with her. So she paced, and paced, trying to think of what she could do and how she could convince the King to let them stay.

“Is something wrong?” a voice sounded from the landing, making Mika jump and let out a squeak. She turned to find the King, his bright eyes looking at her with concern. Mika tried to calm herself down, putting on a brave, respectful smile and clasping her hands in front of her. She was acutely aware that T’Challa was  _ royalty _ , and despite the man’s casual nature yesterday, now she knew she couldn’t risk offending him. “I noticed the light was on. Do you need something?”

“Oh, no, Your Highness, everything is fine. Um, you have been more than kind to me.” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. T’Challa gave her an odd look.

“Why are you talking to me like that?” he asked, obviously confused. Mika clasped her fingers tighter, trying not to give in to her desire to fidget in her nerves.

“I just don’t want to seem ungrateful. Or disrespectful.” she said softly, making him laugh and shake his head at her, as if she were a child. She felt embarrassment warming her cheeks, and knew she was probably blushing quite obviously.

“You are a guest here, Mika. Not a captive.” he said, walking into the kitchen and going to the cupboard, pulling out a clay jar. He grabbed some milk from the fridge and two wooden bowls from the cupboard, pouring some cereal for the both of them. 

“Thank you.” Mika said, taking one of the bowls from him. “I’ll be honest, there is something I’m worried about...I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, after all of this.” She didn’t know if now was the right time to confess this to the King, but it was an opportunity. No matter what the answers were, she would rest a little easier if she had them. T’Challa nodded, chewing thoughtfully on his breakfast.

“I have been thinking about this as well.” he said. “Obviously Sergeant Barnes will have to stay here. Between his past and the new Accords, there is no way for him to escape what has happened to him. Now, I can see what I can do if you want to go back to Romania. I do not have contacts there currently, but being in my position certainly would allow for some influence.”

Mika was silent at that. So there was a chance she could go back home, but Bucky would have to stay here. And what would she do, back in Romania? Do the same job? She often worked through government contracts, there was no way they would hire her back. She supposed she could try and find another place, but everything nowadays was a small start up, or just running IT. And her friends? Her stomach still burned every time she thought of Alexei; she never,  _ ever _ wanted to see him again. Would they believe her, that this was all a misunderstanding? She wanted to think they would. But she realized that she would now forever be tied to the Winter Soldier. It was one thing to tell them that Bucky was framed for all of this, but she couldn’t deny  what Hydra did to him. And as loving as her friends were, she wasn’t sure they’d look at her the same after this. And her sister! God, what she would do to have Nicoletta here with her now. As much as they loved to pick at each other, she knew that she would be on her side. Perhaps she could move to Germany? But could she just leave Bucky behind like that? She certainly didn’t want to; she loved him too much to simply go on her way. He meant everything to her. 

“I...I honestly don’t know. What if...is there any way I could stay here with him?” she asked. She immediately felt the need to qualify her statement. “At least until he wakes up, I don’t want him to wake up alone. I-I can work, I can do whatever job you need and earn my keep-”

T’Challa raised his hand to stop her rambling, and she clamped her mouth shut. Her cheeks were burning again - or had they ever stopped burning from earlier? “We will figure it all out in due time. There is no hurry for any of this. You and Sergeant Barnes have been through a great ordeal, and I confess I am also preoccupied with my own family matters at this time.”

Mika could smack herself. How could she put her problems on T’Challa when he not only was accepting his new role as king, but also grieving the loss of his father? “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” he said, once again handling everything with a grace that fully impressed Mika. “After everything has settled, we will make a plan. Until then, if you feel you must be productive, Shuri can always use help in the lab. But of course, you are free to do as you wish.”

“Thank you. For everything. I feel like I can’t say that enough.” she said, her heart soft for the King. She put down her bowl, asking, “Can I hug you? Is that okay?”

“I think I can allow it.” he said, his tone light and a smirk on his face. She stepped forward and put her arms around him, holding him much tighter than their relationship really spoke for. He didn’t seem to mind, leaning into her embrace in a way that made her wonder if anyone had hugged him in the past few days. They lingered for a breath longer before he stepped away, taking his empty bowl and rinsing it in the sink. “I’m afraid I have things to attend to, but I wanted to check in. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks for stopping by. And for helping me find breakfast.” she said. The cereal was certainly better than the processed mess that filled her grocery store shelves at home, and she found she actually felt full. He nodded at her one last time before leaving, his footsteps soft as he went down the stairs. With that bit of certainty she was able to breathe again - and notice that she’d just had breakfast and entire serious conversation with the King whilst wearing pajamas. Well, if she’d somehow kept up any illusion of propriety before, it was certainly broken now. 

With breakfast done and her breakdown also done, she decided she could now get ready for the day. She didn’t know what time Shuri would be getting to the lab, and figured she should wait at least until the sun was completely up before venturing down there. She looked through the cupboards, taking inventory of what she had. She didn’t want to go down to the lab empty handed, and found that there was a surprising variety of ingredients that she could use to whip up a little something for the princess. Of course, she had no idea what she did or didn’t like, but it would at least be something. 

She didn’t remember the exact quantities of the ingredients she needed, but was able to play with her measurements until the dough felt right. It felt good to be doing something familiar like baking, helping her feel more normal in this situation that was a little out of control. The gorgeous marble countertops certainly made working the bread easier than the cheap laminate of her island back home, and as she set it aside to proof, she found she felt more at ease than she had for the past week.

A quick shower and a change of clothes (she could really get used to these comfortable tunics that filled the closet) made her feel like a new woman, and she hummed along to a song as she filled and plaited her bread and put it in the oven. At least right now, everything was established. There would be other decisions she had to make, of course, but she didn’t have to make them today, and that was what was important.  

When the bread was done and she made sure the fancy kitchen equipment (another thing she could get used to) was clean or turned off, she finally left for the lab floor. She could already see people milling about in the lower floors, though the lab still had limited staff inside. She first stopped in the room outside, the one housing the cryo chambers, and scanned her way in. It was cold, but the fresh bread in the basket on her lap kept her warm as she sat on the stool in front of Bucky.

“Good morning, my love.” she said, her voice quiet. Even if she was alone, she still felt embarrassed talking to him. But it felt good to talk to someone in Romanian. “You probably can’t hear me, or won’t remember this. But I just had to come check on you. Make sure you were okay.”

Bucky, of course, did not respond. His face was completely relaxed, and he looked young - younger than the thirty-something that his body claimed to be, and certainly  _ much _ younger than the ninety-nine that he was. He actually looked at peace, the subtle crease that he usually sported between his eyebrows now smooth in his sleep. The screen next to the chamber detailed his vitals, which had been perfect and steady since the night before. She hoped he wasn’t dreaming; or if he was, that he was only dreaming of good things. 

The door beeped and slid open, the princess stepping in and looking surprised to see her. “You’re up early.” she commented, her eyes falling to the bread in Mika’s lap. “I promise, we’re feeding him.”

“Oh, no, this is for you.” Mika said, offering it to her. Shuri looked surprised for a moment, taking the basket. “I don’t know if you like chocolate, or cinnamon, or even bread for that matter, but…” she trailed off, not knowing where to go from there. Shuri’s eyes brightened, and she shamelessly tore off a chunk and took a bite.

“I  _ love _ chocolate.” she said, her mouth full. Mika smiled; she now seemed more like a teenager than a princess. “This is amazing! Thank you!”

“Of course. A small thanks for everything you’re doing for us here.” she replied, nodding her head at Bucky.

“Well, you are welcome to bring food any time you like. Not into the lab of course, it’s a sterile environment, but-” she took another bite of bread and started walking away, and Mika assumed she was supposed to follow. “Here, this is my relaxation space. This is where all the delicious goodies go.” she said, taking one last bite before shoving some other snacks to the side of a table and placing the basket front and center. “I’m wary to share that, but I suppose I have to be a gracious and giving princess.”

“I don’t think anyone would fault you for not sharing food.” Mika replied, making Shuri smile.

“Come. You said you knew code, right?” she asked, walking quickly back towards the door. Shuri was a woman on a mission, and Mika could respect that. She simply made a noise of agreement, deciding not to mention that yes, Shuri had asked about her code knowledge, but hadn’t exactly waited for an answer. “I’m almost done with my equipment to help Sergeant Barnes, but I’m missing something in the code. I need fresh eyes on it.”

“I don’t know if I’m the right person for that job. I’ve never worked with the language you use.” Mika said, following her into the lab and back onto the platform from the day before. Shuri waved her off, pressing a bead on her bracelet and bringing up the hologram.

“But you’re the closest person. And if you can’t figure it out, maybe you can at least give me an idea.” she said, pulling open a window and scrolling through the lines of code, explaining exactly what the issue was. Mika couldn’t help herself, and immediately started scanning through the lines, looking for the patterns. Next to her, Shuri looked at the most recent scans of Bucky’s brain. Mika could see what she was talking about now; the red thread hadn’t changed in volume, but its path was just slightly different from the day before. Mika shook her head, going back to the problem in front of her. The sooner Shuri fixed what she needed to, the sooner she could get to work on Bucky.

“Well, I can’t tell you how to fix it,” Mika started after scrolling through a few times. “But there’s something mismatched between here...and here...and here.” She highlighted a few key areas of the code, showing them to her. Shuri stepped next to her, her brows furrowed and her eyes moving fast over the different lines. Steam was practically coming out of her ears, and then her face broke into a wide smile.

“You are my new best friend.” she said, her fingers flying over the hologram as she edited what she needed. She smiled to herself, admiring her work before turning back to Mika. “Now I just have to make it autonomic, and we’ll be set.”

“Now that I  _ definitely _ can’t help with.” Mika said. “But if there’s anything else in here that you could use a hand with, I’m willing and able.”

“Absolutely not. You need to relax, explore the city. Look, look.” she took Mika by the hand, pulling her to the large window to show her the bustling town below. “The market is open. Go, see it.” 

Mika looked down at the already busy streets, but was distracted by a group of women on an open air platform. They were dressed in red uniforms, spears in their hands as a woman led them through a series of drills. Once the drills were through, she called them all to attention, the group moving into a circle. And then the sparring began. These women were strong, and graceful, and moved in a way completely different to how Bucky did when they sparred. Mika felt her muscles itching, wanting to exercise and move the way they had just a week ago. There wasn’t much room to move in her Raft cell, and now her partner was frozen, waiting for brain surgery.

“Who are they?” she asked Shuri, pointing to the women below. When the match ended, the women nodded to each other in respect, grinning widely. 

“The royal guard, the Dora Milaje.” she said, her words accented as she spoke in her native language. 

“They’re amazing.” Mika commented, still watching as another pair sparred. 

“Would you like to meet them?” Shuri asked, smiling at her. “They’re very impressive, I know. Many girls grow up wanting to join, but very few make it.”

“Oh, no no, they’re working. I don’t want to interrupt.” she said, trying to back track. She was supposed to be in the background, minding her business and not bothering anyone. 

“Okoye, come up to the lab whenever you’re finished.” Shuri said, and Mika whirled around to find her talking into her bracelet. The girl gave her a mischievous smile. “Too late.”

“Shuri! I mean, Princess!” Mika said, alarmed. She’d already met more intimidating people in the past few days than she had in her entire life. She didn’t need to add to the list. 

“Call me Shuri!” is all she said as she went back to her work. This time, instead of going to the platform, she went to a table set up with a large screen, its view similar to the projection she made on the platform. “Come here. There’s a few projects I’ve put on the back burner because there were bugs in the code, and other things became more important. I know it’s probably below your level, but…”

“Right, of course. Anything you need.” she said, stepping up to the screen. A puzzle? And a productive one? She could definitely handle that. It felt good to be doing something helpful, even if it was a trivial side project. It took her a moment to familiarize herself with the technology, but it was astoundingly user friendly, way more so than anything else she’d worked with. God, the things she could do if she had  _ this _ back in Romania. Next to her, Shuri went to a station with two robot arms, equipped with small instruments at the end of them. She pulled up a screen and tapped away at it, the arms following her every command. She must be working on the hardware then; Mika couldn’t see it, but figured it had to be very small to work in Bucky’s brain and cut out that red thread. She glanced out the window again, but this time the women were gone, and her heart was suddenly in her throat as she realized they were on their way  _ here. _

“Yes, Princess?” came a voice from the doorway. It was the leader, the one who had been taking the rest of the women through the drills. She looked even more fierce up close, and Mika wished she had half of this woman’s confidence. Shuri tapped the screen a last few times before striding over to them, placing her hands on her hips.

“Okoye, this is my new best friend, Mika. She came here with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.” Shuri introduced. Okoye eyed her and inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement, and Mika simply nodded in return, trying not to show how intimidated she felt. “She was admiring your work, and I thought it would be fun to introduce you.”

“Are you a fighter, then?” Okoye asked, her voice smooth. There was an underlying tone to it, but Mika couldn’t tell if it was humor or judgement - or, perhaps, both. 

“I’ve trained some. I’m not near as experienced as you all though.” she said, her accent extra thick. Okoye perked one eyebrow, but said nothing further. Mika, hating the silence, rambled on. “I was actually hoping - I mean, if there’s any free time of course - if perhaps I could join in on a sparring session? I’ve been working with Bucky and with the stress of the past few days-”

“You think,” Okoye interrupted, a stern warning in her tone. “that you are good enough to be  _ Dora Milaje _ ? That you are worthy to train with the king’s guard? You believe that you deserve that privilege?”

Mika’s entire body went cold. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid!  _ Why would she think that asking such a thing was okay? “No, no, uh, of course not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t...I don’t know what I was thinking. I am so, so sorry.” she clamped her mouth shut to prevent any other offending statements and looked down at the ground. Though she was surely close in age to this woman, she suddenly felt like a scolded child. 

“Okoye…” Shuri said, worried about how awry this meeting had gone. Without warning, Okoye swung out at Mika, and she barely had fast enough reflexes to deflect the shot. Okoye reached across and grabbed her wrist, and Mika turned and pulled exactly how Bucky had shown her. She had no doubt that her fear was plain as day on her face, but when she looked up, Okoye was smiling. “Okoye, I didn’t call you up here to scare my new best friend! Be nice!”

“Perhaps I underestimated you.” she said. Wait, was this a right of passage thing, or had she simply been messing with her the whole time? “You know, you can never be Dora Milaje.”

“No, no of course not.” Mika agreed, holding her breath as she waited for what was to follow.

“But, we do have open training nightly, for those who are not on duty. If you wish to try your hand, then we will welcome you.” she said, and Mika let out a huge sigh of relief.

“That would be amazing. Thank you, thank you so much.” she said, feeling a little lightheaded as her panic subsided. Perhaps she could make a few friends here...if she didn’t make a complete ass of herself that evening. Okoye still looked mildly amused, and Mika found she wasn’t quite as scary now. She uncrossed her arms, addressing Shuri.

“By your leave, Princess.” she said, standing at attention. Shuri waved her off.

“Yea, yea. Thank you for stopping by.” she said, going back to her desk to continue her work. Okoye nodded at Mika, still wearing that smirk, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room. Left in the silence, Mika went back to her new work station to continue on her project. The distraction was welcome, and even if he was sleeping, it felt nice to have something to focus on and have Bucky nearby. 

She didn’t know how long they sat and worked at those stations, periodically taking breaks for Shuri to introduce her to the people who came and went around the lab. It was obvious that she was in charge here, but everyone was very independent, greeting the princess before going to work. She wasn’t an overbearing or micromanaging boss; no, she was there because she loved it, and these people were here because they loved it all too. Mika thought this would be an amazing place to work, and idly wondered if Shuri would consider employing her full time, if she was able to stay here. 

It was well past midday when Shuri sighed in defeat, putting down the tablet she’d been working on. “What’s wrong?” Mika asked, low key hoping that she’d be able to find the bugs, just as she had before. But Shuri shook her head.

“The pathway keeps changing in a completely random fashion. Perhaps, if we mapped it for long enough, we could see a pattern. And my technology, usually it can sense these things and help heal damaged tissue. But his actual brain is going to fight me back,  _ and _ the stuff that’s  _ in _ his brain is going to fight me as well.” she explained, her arms crossed as she pouted at the screen in front of her.

“So we have to do it manually.” Mika said. She could tell the Princess was disappointed, but Mika was still so happy that they could do something about the thread that she couldn’t quite sympathize. If they had to do it manually, so be it. As long as it could be done.

“But I  _ hate _ doing things manually.” she huffed, turning to look at Mika, hoping that she would be just as annoyed. Mika hated to disappoint, but she did.

“But we can still do it, right? We can still help him?” she asked. That was all she cared about. Realization dawned on Shuri’s face, and Mika thought the girl actually blushed a bit. She’d been so wrapped up in the game, she’d forgotten the reasons behind it.

“Yes. Yes we can. And when we’re finished, he will be right as rain.” she said, this time determined. Mika nodded, putting her arm around her shoulders.

“Yes he will.” she agreed, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “Now come on, I think we’re long overdue for some lunch.”

“You go ahead. I want to finish this.” Shuri said, gesturing at the screen in front of her. Mika rose her eyebrows.

“You need to eat.” she pointed out. “That big brain of yours needs fuel.”

“I will, I will. I’ll meet you in the apartment later.” she said, her attention already back on the robotic arms in front of her. Mika waited for a moment to see if she changed her mind, but her eyes stayed adamantly on her project. She shook her head, going up to the apartment and fixing herself some food. Somehow, she knew that Shuri was not going to join her; she was too focused on helping them. Mika smiled, pulling out the baking ingredients again.

If Shuri was going to work through lunch to help Bucky, then she’d just have to bring lunch to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my fave chapter, but i hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless! thank you for the kudos and comments, i love hearing from y'all!


	48. The First Swing

Mika didn’t know exactly what one wore to train with the King’s Guard (she couldn’t remember their official name), but all of the clothing stored in the closet of the lab apartment looked much too nice to sweat in. She dug through all the drawers, finally finding something that resembled leggings and a sports bra, and a very soft shirt that didn’t seem as fancy as the others. They weren’t the same as the ratty tights and tshirt she used to work out in at home, but they were all she had. The only shoes she had were the plain slip on sneakers they’d given them on the Raft, so she pulled them on and hoped for the best. 

She didn’t know exactly where she was going, but figured that Shuri would, and started down the stairs towards the lab. Her nerves were starting to build; would she be able to keep up with these women? Or would it be just a complete disaster? She was distracted at the first turn in the stairs as she nearly ran into Steve, who seemed to be making his way towards her little spot at the top. She nearly lost her footing in surprise, but regained it just as his hands shot out to take hold of her shoulders. She let out the breath she’d held during the exchange, clutching her heart as he sheepishly looked down at the ground.

“Uh, sorry about that.” he said, his hands leaving her and going to rub the back of his neck. Another similarity he shared with Bucky. She smiled, trying to cover the way her heart was pounding still from the surprise.

“No, not to worry.” she said, waving him off. “Is, um, everything okay?”

“Yea, yes.” he said, though the way he said it made her believe that everything was  _ not _ okay. She sat and waited for him to continue, worried that he was about to deliver bad news about Bucky or her family or something. “Sam and I have to leave, for a little while. I just wanted to say goodbye, both to Bucky and to you.”

“That was very nice of you.” she said. She was glad he was stopping to let her know, because even if they didn’t know each other very well yet, she would still miss him. He was someone she could depend on, if she needed. She tried not to think of how she was now going to be even more alone; he was going to come back eventually. And maybe, by then, Shuri would have worked her magic and the three of them could spend time together like three old friends. “Where are you going?”

“You know better than that.” he said with a grin, his tone teasing. She rolled her eyes, groaning dramatically before she could stop herself. 

“Right, right. ‘Plausible deniability.’” she quoted. Even if it made sense, it was still annoying. Her response made Steve laugh, shaking his head.

“Exactly.” he agreed. “If we happen to go through Germany, do you want me to check in with your sister?”

It was then that Steve became the brother she never had, her heart nearly overflowing with her affection for him. “I would love that. Thank you.”

“I’m sure Sam won’t mind the pit stop either.” he couldn’t help but add that little tidbit in, and even if Mika and Sam had resolved their issues, she couldn’t help but feel a flare of protectiveness. 

“You just had to say that. You’re nothing but a...a…” she snapped her fingers, trying to remember the word in English. “...You make a lot of trouble.” she said, making him laugh again. She spoke over him, “Tell Sam that while we’re friends now, he’s still on thin ice when it comes to my sister.”

“I’ll pass the message along.” he said, voice still shaking with his mirth. He held his arms out to her, and she willingly sunk into his embrace. “Take care of him while I’m gone, okay?”

“I’ve already been doing that for the past two years.” she said. He gave her an extra squeeze before pulling away, turning so they could both walk down the stairs.

“Where are you off to?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His demeanor was so different now compared to when he was in his Captain America mode; it made Mika forget that he was a superhero. Right now, he was just Steve. And she rather liked Steve.

“I stupidly invited myself to a training session with the King’s Guard.” she said, the nerves from earlier springing back up again. He made an impressed noise, and she shook her head. “I’m not completely convinced I can keep up, but I’ve been working with Bucky for a while now so I’m hoping I can at least get a few good shots in.”

“If you’ve been training with Bucky, I’m sure you’ll do better than you think you will.” he said. “Just don’t get hurt.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine.” she said, trying to play confident and hoping that would allow some actual confidence to seep in. 

“I’m sure you will.” His words said that he agreed with her, but he said it with the same teasing tone that made her believe otherwise. She shot him a glare out of the corner of her eye, sending her elbow into his ribs. He made an exaggerated noise. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”

“Perhaps you did.” she said, the compliment serving to bolster her courage a bit. This was a good idea, she told herself. Best case scenario, she had some new training partners, maybe even a friend or two. Worst case scenario, she returned to the apartment to make herself a cake and lick her wounds. They hit the landing where the lab was stationed, and she looked at Steve again. “This is my stop. Be safe, alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” he said, putting his arm around her one last time before continuing down the stairs. She thought to pause and check in on Bucky, but she had the feeling she was running out of time, and the last thing she wanted to be today was late.

Turns out, she did get to check on Bucky, as he was on the platform in Shuri’s lab. He was still asleep in the cryo chamber, but Shuri had hooked the pod up to something, a wide holographic screen in front of her. If she noticed Mika entering, she didn’t let on, her eyes completely focused on the image in front of her. Mika moved to see the screen, finding Bucky’s brain on display. Once again, the bright red thread running through it had changed it’s path, trying to prolong its life.  _ Your days are numbered, _ she wanted to say to it, her anger once again bubbling beneath the surface. How  _ dare _ they do this to him, hurt him like this. She wanted to fight every single one of them. 

“You’ve come just in time for the first test.” Shuri said. Ah, so she  _ did _ notice Mika’s arrival. “I assume that’s what you’re here for?”

“I was actually coming to ask if you knew where Okoye would be training tonight, but this is much more important to me.” she admitted, coming to stand next to her. “Did you find a way to make it automatic?”

“No.” she said sourly, very nearly pouting at the admission. Her fingers moved a little faster on the controls, as if that would change things. “I have to do it all manually. It’s quite insulting.”

“It’s not insulting. You still figured out a way to undo years of torture.” Mika pointed out. Shuri’s hands slowed for a moment, as if the statement surprised her. She then nodded, returning to her original speed. She pulled up a separate screen, her finger running through the numbers until she settled on a specific one. She seemed to commit it to memory, so Mika did too.

“You’re completely right. Now, let’s just see if everything works the way I want it to.” she said, pressing a button to zoom in and deploy her little instrument, the small purple dot blinking its way through Bucky’s brain. It moved slowly, dodging its way through the healthy brain tissues in order to find the places where Hydra had put their malicious programming. She eventually found the little red thread, even smaller and more winding than initially presented, and went to work. There was a light humming as the device started working, moving forward like a little train on the track. The humming stopped if Shuri strayed too far from it, telling them that it could definitely tell the difference between his brain and the diseased portion inside it. She pulled it to a stop and zoomed back out, and they watched the thread eagerly to see how it responded. They could see the spot where the device had eaten the thread away, and while the rest of it continued to steadily snake its way through, that one spot remained empty. Shuri pressed a few more spots, pulling up the numbers again. Though she didn’t understand the language, Mika did understand when Shuri followed a line with her finger, going to a number that was decidedly less than it was before the test. 

“You did it.” Mika said, her heart in her throat. She put her arms around Shuri’s shoulders, careful to mind where her hands were on the screen as she squeezed her. “You did it!” 

“I haven’t done it yet. There’s still a long way to go.” she said, but instead of sounding annoyed at the manual nature like she had earlier, now she just sounded determined. 

“But you still figured out how to do it. You’re amazing.” Mika breathed, letting go of her. “Show me how the controls work, I would be more than happy to help. I obviously won’t be as good as you, but I can at least give you a few minutes to rest.”

“We’ll see. I still may modify it a bit. Just because it works doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.” she said, making Mika smile. Of course. 

“But at least we have a starting point.” she said, going to take another look at Bucky. She rested her hand on the pod, the glass cool under her hand. “Do you mind if I stay here for a little while? While you work?”

“What? No, you’ve got to get to training!” Shuri said, taking her hands away from the controls and grabbing Mika by the shoulders, turning and pushing her towards the door. She dug in her heels, trying to stop the girl from pushing her further.

“I’m sure they will understand, I can always ask to come another time...even if Okoye was already kind enough to allow me to join tonight.” she said, sounding hesitant even to her own ears. Bucky was obviously the priority, but if they ended up staying here in Wakanda, could she afford to start their life here by burning bridges?

“I’m not going to do anything more tonight. That was just the test. Once I modify everything, then we’ll start tomorrow.” she said, making Mika stop fighting her so hard. “You need to do something fun. You can’t just stay cooped up in my lab the whole time.”

“But  _ you _ stay cooped up in the lab the whole time.” she pointed out, even though she already knew she was going to relent and leave.

“Yes, but this is my fun.” she said, taking Mika by the hand and pulling a bead from her bracelet, the other ones easily sliding together to fill the space. She tapped her own bracelet, pulling up a map. She expertly moved around the map before selecting a point, touching Mika’s bead to her bead before putting it back on her bracelet. “There, it’ll lead you right to it.”

“You’re an angel, I hope you know that.” she said, fighting the urge to hug her again. Shuri gave her a brilliant smile, the look reminding Mika exactly how young she was. 

“I know, but it’s always nice to hear.” she said, giving her one last push towards the door. “Now, go on. Have fun. You know I’ll take good care of your man here.”

“That I do. Thank you again, Shuri.” she said softly, this time giving in to her desire to hug the girl. Since she wasn’t working on her device now, she eagerly returned the embrace.

“Of course. Anything for my new best friend.” she said, her voice muffled by how tightly Mika was squeezing her to her chest. Between her and Steve, Mika was getting her fill for affection, which definitely helped with the anxiety. “Now go. And tell Okoye that  _ I _ said she needs to be nice.”

“I will do no such thing, but I still appreciate it.” Mika said, pulling back and giving her a smile. With that, she gave Shuri a final goodbye before exiting the lab, her bracelet subtly pulling her in the direction she was supposed to go. It wasn’t blinking or buzzing or actually even lifting her arm, but it somehow conveyed which way she needed to turn. She never left the actual palace, just going to an area of it that she hadn’t seen before (not that she had visited many areas of it at all). She got the distinct feeling that she was not supposed to be here, but no one that passed her did anything more than give her a cursory glance and a vaguely confused look. She finally found a hallway that felt right, and could see a large open room at the end of it. Two women, dressed much more casually than they were earlier, were already warming up in the middle of it, this time with two batons each. Mika slowed as she made it to the door, hesitant to just walk in and unsure of where to go.

“Ah, so you decided to come?” came a voice from across the room. Okoye jumped off of a short ledge of some sort, a smirk on her face as she strode over to her.

“I may get my ass handed to me, but I thought I should at least try.” Mika replied. She was determined not to be intimidated like she was earlier; meekness would not go over well here. If anything, she did not want these women to think of her as fragile. She may not be a good fighter, and she may not completely belong here, but she was not going to roll over and give up. That would be disappointing to her  _ and _ Bucky, whether or not he was conscious. 

“And try you will.” Okoye said. She looked to one of the other women, who was leaning against the wall chatting with her fellow guard. At just her look, the other woman’s attention shifted to Okoye, who gestured for her to come over to them. She was younger than Okoye or Mika, but certainly older than Shuri. Mika wondered if she was the newest member, and that was why she was singled out. “Kanoni, this is Mika. She’s a friend of the Princess, and wanted to give our training a try.”

“Really?” Kanoni asked, grinning at them. Whereas Okoye always looked like she had a plan that Mika knew nothing about, Kanoni’s smile actually looked rather joyful. This was something that was going to be fun for her. “Very well. What’s your weapon of choice?”

“I’ve, uh, actually never worked with a weapon before.” Mika admitted. Kanoni’s smile grew wider, and she held up her fists in a faux ready position.

“Just the ones Bast blessed you with, yes?” she asked, and Mika nodded. Okoye made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff.

“That remains to be seen.” she said. She whistled sharply, and the two women in the middle of the room stopped their sparring and moved to the side, saying something in unison to each other accompanied by a brief bow of their heads. “Now is your time to prove yourself.”

Mika tried not to look scared as they walked to the center of the circle, shaking her arms out and moving her legs. Her body was buzzing with adrenaline, making her muscles already feel warm and tight. They circled each other for a moment, sizing each other up. Kanoni was smaller than her, but she looked strong, and was likely very quick. And she had been training a lot longer than Mika. If she was honest, she didn’t expect to win. But damn if she was going to try.

“Any rules?” she asked, trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally break any laws of engagement. Kanoni shook her head.

“Play fair. First to yield loses.” she said with a shrug. Mika stopped, shifting her stance into the defensive one that Bucky taught her so many Saturdays ago and nodding her head.

“Sounds good.” she agreed. Now that she appeared ready, the smirk returned to Kanoni’s face, and she leapt into action.

Mika assumed she would be quick, but she was even quicker than she anticipated. Her only saving grace was that, while Kanoni was very fast, she wasn’t faster than Bucky. She was used to his subtle movements, his ability to hide which direction he was going to go. Kanoni was more obvious in her strokes, her actions bolder. Mika couldn’t keep up with her enough to go on the offensive, but she was able to successfully defend attack after attack. The problem with being in this position, however, was that it was incredibly exhausting, and she knew unless she did something, she would be losing soon. 

The match lasted a lot longer than either of them probably anticipated, and Mika could hear her heart rapidly pounding in her ears as she waited for an opening. She could feel herself fatiguing, her hands moving slower and her balance starting to shift. Sure enough, after one wrong move, Kanoni pulled and spun her, locking her arm around her neck with Mika’s back to her chest. Mika was barely able to get her fingers underneath the woman’s rock hard biceps to give her some leeway. 

“Do you yield?” Kanoni asked, and Mika was proud that the other woman was short of breath too. Even if she was going to lose, she wanted to put up a good fight. Mika took a few quick breaths, trying to get as much oxygen into her body as possible. 

“Not yet.” Mika said, shifting her hips and pulling Kanoni over her shoulder, just like she’d done to Bucky. She was easier to throw than the super soldier, but unlike Bucky, she didn’t let go. Mika felt the world spin as Kanoni brought her down with her; she took the hit of Mika landing on top of her, and while Mika thought that would hurt her, she felt like she landed on a human shaped rock. Kanoni quickly wrapped up her legs and her dominant arm, and Mika knew she’d been beat.

“Do you yield?” she asked again, her voice strained as she braced against the weight of Mika on top of her. Mika tried to catch her breath again, her mind racing as she tried to think of some way - any way - to get out of this. 

“Yes, I yield.” she finally relented, and Kanoni released her. She rolled over, taking a moment on her hands and knees to catch her breath. The other woman sat for a brief moment before easily hopping to her feet, holding her hand out. Mika took it gratefully, trying not to lean too hard on her as she got up. She tried to control her breathing, though there was no way to hide how much she was sweating. She looked over to Okoye, who had on an expression that she couldn’t quite decipher. Kanoni got her attention, saying something in Wakandan and bowing her head towards Mika. Mika could feel the deer-in-the-headlights look on her face, and awkwardly bowed her head and said, “Same to you.”

That made Kanoni laugh. “It’s an agreement of respect and sisterhood. Here, it will be the first phrase you learn in our language.” she said, proceeding to slowly walk Mika through the phrase. The words were very foreign in her mouth, and her accent was horrible, but the women seemed to appreciate her valiant effort.

“I’ll have to practice that a bit more.” she admitted, and Kanoni patted her shoulder encouragingly. 

“There’s a lot of things you need to practice more.” she said, the bite of her words offset by the happy smile. “Don’t worry, we have open sparring every night.”

“Oh, I couldn’t - I mean, I don’t want to intrude-” she started to give excuses, trying to prove to the eavesdropping leader that she knew tonight was a privilege, that she in no way expected to be allowed here again. 

“Bast knows you could use the work.” Okoye cut in, her gaze steady and sharp on Mika. Mika tried to hold on to whatever internal strength she had left, looking straight back at her. “But that wasn’t bad. Better than I thought you would do.”

“Thank you?” Mika replied, feeling that the comment was as close to a compliment as she was going to get from her. She nodded once, that smirk back on her face, before calling the names of two other guards for their sparring session. Mika leaned against the wall, pretending to be casual while really just needing the support. Kanoni didn’t let her stay there for long though, nodding her head at one of the ledges overlooking the tiny arena. Mika pretended her muscles weren’t screaming, joining her and happily accepting a cup of water as they sat. 

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” she asked, lazily swinging her legs. Mika paused, trying to figure out how to answer.

“My boyfriend.” she said, deciding to tell the truth, just not the whole truth. “I asked him to teach me some self defense, and it just kind of went from there.”

“And how long have you been training?” she followed up, taking a sip of water. 

“About a year and a half or so. Not every day though. You’re right, I definitely need to practice more.” she said. “How about you?”

“Oh, I’ve been training since I came of age at thirteen. And then, when I was eighteen, I was chosen to serve my King as  _ Dora Milaje  _ for my tribe.” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Mika couldn’t fathom training from that age, though if she thought about it, she started playing sports even younger than that. Of course, she was not good enough to make a career out of it, and certainly wasn’t serving any king with her rugby skills. “The man you trained with...he is the fallen soldier that the King brought back?”

“Yes, he is.” she said sadly.  _ Fallen soldier _ was probably the most accurate way to describe Bucky, especially his past. She found herself wanting to tell about everything else though - the way he picked himself up and put himself back together, the way he tried so hard to do good and be good and help those around him. He was a fallen soldier, yes; but he was also so much more than that. 

“Hmmmm.” Kanoni hummed, a mischievous grin on her face. Mika looked at her out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her to continue. “It nice, seeing how much you care about him.”

“I’m not good at hiding my feelings.” Mika admitted, chuckling even though it wasn’t quite humorous. The spar that was going finished, and the two women bowed their heads and were replaced by two more, jumping in with wooden swords and shields. 

“Me neither. Okoye says my heart would leap right out of my chest if my ribs weren’t there to stop it.” she said, making Mika smile. This girl was certainly open, which she appreciated. It helped her feel a little less alienated. 

“Do you know how to use all those weapons?” she asked, changing the subject and gesturing to the wall across from them. Swords, spears, batons, and other weapons that she couldn’t name all hung proudly, meticulously organized on their holders.

“Of course. The spear is the traditional weapon, but we are trained in all areas of combat.” she explained. “I can teach you how to use them, if you like.”

“I couldn’t ask that, I don’t want to take up your time.” Mika said, shaking her head. Kanoni was already being nice enough, she didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. But the woman just rolled her eyes.

“It would be fun. Come on, how many friends do you have here?” she pointed out, making her laugh. She liked Kanoni; she loosely reminded her of Elena. Perhaps a bit more disciplined, but just as strong willed.

“Do I get to include you in the count?” she asked, not wanting to admit that the number was, in fact, startlingly low. Especially since one friend was on ice, one left to do who knows what, and the other two were royalty. She didn’t know what happened to the others that were in the Raft with her, but she had the feeling that they left with Steve. She was alone. “Alright, you make a good point.”

“My next rest day is three days from now. We’ll start then.” she said. The spar in front of them came to a close, and the mat was empty once again. Kanoni smacked the side of her leg. “Come on. It’s our turn again. This time, try and win, eh?”

Training lasted considerably longer than Mika anticipated, but she enjoyed every minute of it. And afterwards, Kanoni made sure to mention that she liked having Mika as a training partner - she moved differently, fought differently, than her sisters in the Dora Milaje. She was happy to have the insight. Mika was just glad to have a friend. She could already feel the soreness settling into her muscles as she made it up the stairs to the lab apartment, each step a little more difficult than the last. She was exhausted, and was convinced that as soon as she ate something and hit the bed, she would be out like a light. 

How wrong she was. When she was younger, Raisa used to say that she was too tired to sleep, and Mika thought that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. Now, laying here in this weirdly soft bed with the sound of a different city drifting through her window and her very bones aching from exercise, she understood. She tossed and turned, her hand periodically reaching out to the empty side of the bed, her fingers lightly tapping against the cool sheets. She was so used to telling Bucky everything about her day, and hearing about his, and now all she had was the silence. She watched as the minutes ticked by, sleep continuing to elude her. When the clock hand passed three, she finally gave up, rolling out of bed and pulling a robe on over her pajamas. Perhaps Bucky couldn’t talk to her, but at least she could see him. Maybe that’s all she needed to get to sleep.

She made sure to grab her bracelet before padding her way down the stairs, her steps soft and careful in the dim light of the hallway. No one else was up, which she was grateful for, that way no one would see the way she was limping. For the first time, she was almost glad that Bucky was asleep, because the teasing she would have to endure would be relentless. She made her way to the room outside the lab, scanning into it. The two stations with the empty pods were still there, but the third, where Bucky was supposed to be, was vacant. She forgot her pain then, panic steadily rising in her chest. Where was he? Was something wrong?

She quickly let herself out, running to the door of the lab. Most of it was dark, but the platform in the middle was still lit, with Bucky laying there peacefully, just as he’d been earlier. At his head was Shuri. She’d given up standing at her screen, and had procured a chair at some point in the past few hours. Her movements, while still consistent, were much slower than earlier, and she kept blinking her eyes as she tried to track the red thread. Mika let herself in to the lab, the noise startling her. She took her hands away from the screen to clutch her chest, letting out a long breath to calm herself. 

“You’re up late.” Mika commented, coming to look at her progress. So much for starting the next day; there was still a lot of red in the brain, but she’d managed to eat away a solid chunk of it. 

“I didn’t mean to, but I just started going and...it’s like a video game. I just wanted to get a little further.” Shuri explained, rubbing her hands over her eyes. When she finally looked at the screen again, it almost looked like she was going to start up again.

“Come on, love. It’s time to give that big brain of yours a rest.” she said, rubbing her back. Shuri wanted to fight, she could tell, but she eventually just closed the screen with a pinch of her fingers. 

“You’re right.” she said, standing up and pressing a few buttons on the pod so that it followed her off the platform. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I thought I would just come check on him one more time.” she admitted, walking with her hand on the glass. Bucky still slept peacefully, his face soft and unbothered. Did he somehow look even younger than the last time she saw him? It seemed like it. Lord knows if anyone deserved a long, peaceful sleep, it was him. Her heart swelled as she watched Shuri slide him back into his place; they were close, so close to his freedom, and it was all thanks to the Princess. Mika couldn’t help but hug her again, one last time before they parted ways for the night. The second trek up the stairs was even more difficult than the first, everything screaming at her until she finally made it to the landing. She collapsed onto the bed, and this time it was much more comfortable.

And finally, she could go to sleep.


	49. New Minds

Over the next few days, Mika tried her best to establish some sort of schedule. She woke up weirdly early (thanks to the change in time zones), had her breakfast, and tried to bake something to take down to Shuri and everyone else in the lab. After spending the day working on the folder of on-hold projects, she’d meet with Konami and the other Dora Milaje for training. At night, as she limped on sore muscles back to the lab apartment, she stopped in to say goodnight to Bucky, even though he was already peacefully sleeping. Then she ate whatever she could find, showered, and collapsed into bed. She was hoping the routine would help calm her nerves, help her get more than just a few hours of restless sleep. She was doing her best, but couldn’t help but struggle with the feeling of unease, and loneliness, and uncertainty. She told herself it would be better once Bucky woke up and they had a plan, holding onto that thought every time she started to break down. 

T’Challa made sure to check in with her the first couple days, which Mika thought was beyond kind of him. And even if she desperately needed friends here, she couldn’t exactly depend on the King to hold her hand while she adjusted to her (hopefully) new life. He looked very apologetic as he mentioned leaving for a mission, so she made sure to encourage him, telling him to be careful and be sure not to get hurt, and telling him she’d make sure Shuri didn’t burn down the palace while he was away. 

“Do you want to know where my brother has gone?” Shuri asked the next morning, rolling on her stool to come park next to Mika. She had a mischievous look on her face, and Mika wondered if she was breaking some sort of protocol or just gossiping.

“Depends, how much trouble could you or I get in for talking about this?” Mika asked, committing her stopping point in the code she was looking at to memory and turning to the princess. Shuri spun on the stool, letting out a high pitched sound signifying that she was thinking.

“Not too much trouble, I don’t think.” she finally decided, stopping her spinning. “I mean, I don’t know the exact  _ where _ , I just know the exact  _ who _ .” 

“That sounds like I could get in a  _ lot _ of trouble.” Mika said, raising her eyebrows. Shuri ignored her concern, leaning on her desk to get even closer to her. 

“No, it’s fine. He’s gone to retrieve his ex-girlfriend that he’s totally still in love with.” she said, unable to keep the secret any longer. It was moments like these that she showed her age, and Mika wanted to ruffle her hair like she used to do to Nicoletta all the time. However, given how elaborate Shuri’s hair was, she elected to keep her hands to herself.

“And now I’m going to be banished. Thank you.” Mika said, making Shuri grab her wrist.

“I’d never allow that. Okoye and I agreed that he’s  _ definitely  _ going to freeze when he sees her.” she continued, never minding Mika’s concern. 

“Somehow, I don’t see that happening.” Mika said, which made her counterpart laugh.

“I will make sure my brother knows how highly you think of him.” she said, still giggling through her words. “But I’m afraid you don’t know him as well as I do.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Mika agreed. “To be fair, I have known him approximately six days as opposed to sixteen years. What is his ex doing that he has to go retrieve her?”

“She’s off being her little spy self. Trying to save the continent and all that.” Shuri said casually, as if that were completely normal. 

“Oh, right. Nothing big.” Mika said sarcastically, making Shuri pinch her. Yes, every day she felt a little more like her little sister. “Why is he bringing her back now?”

“So that she can be here for today, the coronation ceremony.” Shuri said, her tone saying the answer was obvious. “I did tell you about the coronation ceremony, right?”

“Uh, no. You didn’t.” Mika said, and Shuri gasped.

“Dammit!” she said, her eyes flicking around the lab as she made sure no one heard her swear - and therefore, no one would tell her mother. “I knew I was forgetting something. Well, good thing I’ve got an outfit for you, so you don’t have to worry about that-”

“Shuri.” Mika interrupted. “I really appreciate it, but I don’t want to overstep. This is something for your family, and for Wakanda. It’s not my place to be there.”

“But you’re part of Wakanda now too!” she said, pinching her forearm and grinning. “Even if you don’t quite blend in.”

“Yes, yes, I’m pale, I know.” she said. It wasn’t the first time the princess teased her for it. “Need I remind you it was  _ winter _ in Romania when I left? No sun to be had. And cold.” 

“You’ll still look good in our colors.” she said, as if the conversation were over.

“Have you spoken with your mother about this? Or your brother?” she asked, giving her a pointed look. Shuri paused then, as if the concept had not occurred to her.

“Not yet.” she admitted before waving her off. “But it’ll be fine. I think. Probably.”

“Shuri.” she said shortly, and the girl groaned dramatically.

“Fine, I won’t have you out there next to me. But there is a little alcove that no one knows about. I really want you to see it, it’s a once in a lifetime occasion. Please?” she said, giving her best puppy dog eyes. Mika sighed.

“I can’t very well turn down a request from a princess, huh?” she said. She knew when to pick her battles, and she’s already given every argument she had. Shuri pumped her fist excitedly.

“Yes! And you will still wear the ceremonial clothes, because I am very excited about it.” she said, patting her shoulder and scooting back across the floor back to where she was working on a pair of shoes. Mika tried not to feel upset that she wasn’t working on Bucky’s brain all the time, knowing that she had other, more important projects going on. The princess gave her an update every morning, and today she’d said they were ninety-eight percent through. Only two percent of all the shit they’d forced into his brain was left, and then he’d finally be entirely himself again. She couldn’t wait. 

Halfway through the morning, a messenger came for Shuri, saying that her brother would be arriving shortly. The princess looked frustrated for a moment, as if she weren’t ready to stop working, but she stood anyways and bid everyone in the lab goodbye. She tapped Mika’s bracelet a few times, telling her that it would lead her where she needed to go at the appropriate time. It felt very much like espionage, and while she did not want to risk going against what the King or his mother may approve of, she also couldn’t say no to the princess. With a sigh, she agreed, and went back to her codes. 

Sure enough, just when Mika thought that the bracelet had forgotten about her and she was not going to have to decide whether or not to listen to the princess, the beads started buzzing. She thought about ignoring it and just continuing on with her work, but it started becoming more relentless, more insistent. Why did she think that Shuri’s technology would work any differently than Shuri herself?

“Fine, fine, princess.” she muttered, swiping her hand to close the window and getting up from her spot. The bracelet changed its pattern for a moment, as if it were happy that she was finally listening to it. Just like the night she first went to training, the beads led her down the halls to a different part of the palace she’d never been before. The halls were completely empty, as she was sure everyone was at home getting ready for the ceremony, or perhaps already there. She really had no idea what to expect. 

In a small room on the ground floor, she found a mannequin that looked suspiciously like the ones in the lab, only instead of armor, this one had a beautiful outfit various shades of purple and gold and brown, intricate beadwork crossing all over it. She touched it reverently, feeling very much like she did not deserve such regal attire. She thought about just leaving it here and telling Shuri she never found it, but knew immediately that she would not buy the lie. She thought about leaving it and just telling Shuri the truth - she did not want to encroach upon the honor of the land, that she didn’t belong at such an important event. But somehow, she knew that would do even less. She stayed there for much too long trying to decide what to do before thinking  _ fuck it _ and starting to disrobe. She did not think the dress would be as comfortable as the soft tunic she was wearing prior, but she was wrong. The beads didn’t pinch, and the fabric beneath them was just as soft as everything else she had. This outfit wasn’t made for battle or for work; no, it was made to party. 

There was no hope for her hair, so she simply tucked it into a long French braid, hoping that would be good enough. None of this mattered, she reminded herself. No one was supposed to see her, and no one was  _ going _ to see her. She’d never been a particularly sneaky person, but she was going to have to try her very best today. The leather sandals fit her perfectly, the straps criss-crossing up her lower legs. The skirt clicked with the gentle sound of beads hitting each other as she moved, and she felt like she sounded like one of those rain sticks often sold at the world marketplace. Her bracelet started buzzing at her again; it must be time to go.

Thank goodness the outfit was so comfortable, because the walk to wherever she was going was much longer than she anticipated. She assumed the ceremony would be in the throne room, or perhaps some grand hall, but her jewelry guide took her down into the lower levels and through a series of tunnels. It was cool down here, much colder than the lovely warmth outside, and she quickened her pace both to warm herself up and to try and escape the chill sooner. Shuri wasn’t kidding when she called her position a secret alcove; when Mika finally emerged an hour later, she found herself in a little hole in the side of a mountain. The crack exposing her to the outside world was barely big enough for someone to squeeze through, if that someone was relatively thin. Shuri could slip through no problem, but Mika thought she herself would barely fit. Bucky, with his broad shoulders, would definitely get stuck. 

She couldn’t see all the people there, but based on the noise, the mountain was very tall, and the entire city was present. Songs from various tribes drifted to her little hiding spot, the voices echoing and circling in an energetic round. Somehow they all seemed to fit together, and she felt emotions welling up in her chest, despite not knowing what they were saying or what exactly was going on. She leaned against the side of the cave wall, trying to get the best view she could of the platform below. An older gentleman in a purple robe waded into the water as one of the black aircrafts appeared, its ramp lowering so that the King of Wakanda could make his entrance. 

“I, Zuri, son of Badu,” the older gentleman spoke, the singing and chanting fading out as he addressed the crowd. “give to you Prince T’Challa, the Black Panther.”

At this, the entire mountain shook with a roar of cheering, and T’Challa responded to them by saluting with his blade and dropping to a kneel in front of them. The country went silent with him, the vibration stopping instantaneously. Mika held her breath; everything was so new, and so amazing, and she was very glad that she was witnessing this.

“The prince will now have the strength of the Black Panther stripped away.” Zuri said, presenting a wooden bowl to T’Challa, who drank from it. His posture changed, and he looked like he was in an intense amount of pain, doubling over at the waist to rest his arm on his leg. But the feeling passed quickly, and he soon rose to his feet. After being around Bucky for so long, Mika could tell the difference in the way he stood. He was still strong, stronger than most men, but his posture was not the same as it was before. Zuri said something and the crowd responded in kind; once again, she had no idea what they said, but it felt very final. 

“Victory in ritual combat comes by yield or death.” he began, and Mika had to appreciate how committed he was to this presentation. It didn’t feel fake, or overdone; it felt like he was passionate about this ritual, and determined to make it as special as he could for the new king. “If any tribe wishes to put forth a warrior, I now offer a path to the throne.”

Mika’s eyes grew wide. Really? They would just allow a challenge like this? To the rightful king? She was scared for a moment, worried that someone would try to dethrone T’Challa already, but she soon realized her fears were unfounded. One by one, she heard each representative for the tribes as they declined the challenge. The people loved and respected him, and accepted them as their king. 

“Is there any member of royal blood who wishes to challenge for the throne?” Zuri asked, and now it was obvious to Mika that he did not expect anyone to speak up. However, murmurs of surprise trickled through the crowd, and Zuri’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Mika got as close as she dared to the mountain side, trying to see who would so dare to raise a challenge. 

“This corset is really uncomfortable,” came a voice she knew, and Mika could practically feel Zuri trying not to roll his eyes at Shuri. “so could we all just wrap it up and go home?”

There were murmurs of agitation and a few laughs sprinkled around, and Mika was glad to hear that Shuri wasn’t just a troublemaker within the safety of her lab. No, it seemed like the princess was determined to be herself no matter where she was, or how important the situation may be. But unfortunately, Shuri’s wishes weren’t listened to. Another form of chanting started, and this one sounded different than before. It wasn’t celebratory, it was almost warlike. She leaned, trying to get a view of whoever was approaching, and a few rocks slid from their place on the ground, through the crack and splashing into the water below. They were small and the noise quiet, but it was noise nonetheless. She quickly moved back, hiding behind an outcropping of stone and hoping that whoever was around her was distracted enough not to notice.

Once she was sure any curious eyes would have given up, she  moved so she could watch as a group of men, white war paint slathered over their bodies, stalked out of a different tunnel in the mountain. Their movements were slow and calculated, and while Mika knew that this was an act and that they were purposefully doing this to come across as intimidating, she definitely fell for it. Her heart was in her throat as one man walked up to T’Challa, a gorilla mask hiding his face. He wanted to scare him, and everyone there. T’Challa only looked vaguely annoyed.

“M’Baku, what are you doing here?” Zuri asked once the man had removed his mask. Any other time, Mika would have considered him handsome, but right now, she just felt anger at him interrupting T’Challa’s coronation. 

“It’s challenge day.” he drawled with the confidence of a man who was used to winning everything. He moved to address the crowd. “We have watched and listened from the mountains. We have watched with disgust as your technological advancements have been overseen by a child! Who scoffs at tradition!” Mika balked at that. Yes, Shuri was only sixteen, but she was beyond brilliant, and more creative and intuitive than any scientist the world had ever seen. Her age should not discount her gifts. “And now you want to hand the nation over to this prince who could not keep his own father safe? Mmm? We will not have it. I said we will not have it!”

If Mika wasn’t sworn to secrecy, she would have gone right up to this man and given him a piece of her mind. She knew nothing of Wakanda’s set up, or its political regime, or most of its traditions, but it was obvious that this man was interrupting something very important, and insulting the entire royal family while he was at it. How dare he imply that T’Challa would not be a good leader? He didn’t know what the king had been through this past week, all that he’d done to help the people around him despite his grief. Mika was so mad for T’Challa that she didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, but her emotions fizzled out as drummers on the rocks started an aggressive beat. Zuri put a panther mask on T’Challa, and M’Baku pulled his gorilla one on as well. The painted men lined up around their leader, and the Dora Milaje came to T’Challa’s side. Mika covered her mouth to keep the swears inside; when they said ‘challenge,’ they meant it. 

For all the time they took with their speeches, the fight began promptly and without pomp and circumstance. M’Baku immediately jumped into the offensive, swinging his heavy club with deadly power and accuracy. Mika was worried, without the supposed powers of the black panther, that T’Challa wouldn’t hold his own, especially since he just seemed to be reacting to the hits that M’Baku was throwing at him. Mika couldn’t hold in a gasp as T’Challa was knocked down, the other man yelling at him to get up as the guards took one step towards them, the sharp tips of their spears glinting in the sunlight. 

“Get up, get up.” she whispered nervously. The crowd was so vocal she didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing her in her hiding place. She let out her breath as T’Challa stood, engaging with M’Baku and kicking him down. He waited, prowling through the water, as M’Baku stood again. Mika had seen a few fights over the past week, but this was different. This wasn’t the cold calculation of the Winter Soldier, or the fiery tempest of the Dora Milaje. This was two men armed with pride as they fought under the weight of their nation. 

At one point, M’Baku had him in a hold, and Mika’s insides turned to ice. Was this it? Was T’Challa going to lose? But no, he was able to break from the constraints, breaking M’Baku’s mask under the force from his elbow. Her fingers were sore from gripping the rocky wall, and she was barely breathing as she watched. T’Challa was going to win, he  _ had _ to win. She felt like her entire body stopped moving as M’Baku sunk his spear into T’Challa’s shoulder, her voice catching in her throat. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. T’Challa couldn’t lose. She may not know much about Wakanda, but she knew that he would make it a better place than it already was. And she selfishly thought that if he was no longer in charge, that her new home would no longer be a viable option. 

“I am Prince T’Challa. Son of King T’Chaka!” he yelled, his hands grasping at the wood of the spear. With an acrobatic move, he pulled the spear from his chest, loosing M’Baku of his weapon and tangling him up with his legs around his neck. The crowd was chanting his name, the warriors stepping closer and closer until there was nowhere to move. Was he going to kill him? Surely he would not, right? But, she reminded herself, she did not know exactly how things worked in this country. If this was the way they did things, she was going to have to be okay with it. Besides, it’s not like he would be the first person she knew who’d killed somebody.

Luckily, she didn’t have to contemplate the moral ambiguity of death by honor, as T’Challa released his opponent back to his warriors, rising victorious from the waters. Once again, the mountain rumbled with applause and cheers as everyone present celebrated the winner. He was certainly loved by the people, that was for sure. Zuri put a necklace over his head, and for a second, Mika thought she accidentally made eye contact with him. But there was no way he could see her, what with her hiding place and the sheer volume of people...right?

Just in case, she took that as the cue to travel back to the main palace, hoping to get there before the rest of the people who shared the space. It was supposed to be their little secret, hers and Shuri’s. She reached the stairs without encountering anyone and flew up them, her muscles tingling both with the exercise and the fear that she would be caught. Her outfit rattled softly as she moved, the beads hitting one another. It was not a loud sound, but it felt rather conspicuous in the empty hallway. Not that it mattered; everyone was gone, celebrating the inauguration of the new king. She made it back to her temporary home and started making some tea. She knew she should probably change, but she liked the clothes the princess had chosen for her, and wanted to wear them for a little longer. 

“Look at you! It’s even better than I thought it would be.” Shuri said, surprising her. She was still in her own ceremonial garb, the jaw bone making her features sharper and making her look a little older. Mika held out a cup of tea to her, which she eagerly took. 

“It’s amazing. Thank you so much for letting me borrow it.” Mika said. She didn’t know whose it was (it was way too big for the princess), but she was very grateful to them. Shuri made a confused face.

“Borrow? No, it’s yours. I had it made for you.” she said, as if that were obvious. Mika went slack jawed for a second before she finally found her voice to answer.

“What? Princess, I can’t, this is - it’s too much. I can’t accept this.” she said, stumbling over her words. Did Shuri’s kindness never end? There was no amount of coding she could correct to repay her for all she’d given her.

“You can, and you will.” she said with an air of finality. Mika was fully prepared to argue with her on this, but she continued with something much more distracting. “But I did not come here to talk about fashion. I came because Sergeant Barnes is almost awake.”

_ That _ certainly got her attention. “Awake?” she asked, and Shuri nodded with a grin. Without waiting for any further response, she grabbed Mika’s wrist and started dragging her towards the stairs.

“Come on, I’m sure you’ll want to be there. I had a few minutes earlier to finish deleting the last of the cancerous memories. They’re taking him out of cryo now.” she explained. Mika’s head was reeling, thinking this was all too much. She thought she would see Bucky tomorrow, or perhaps the next day. But now?

“But...your brother’s coronation, the celebration-” Mika didn’t want Shuri to miss out on all of that. Bucky was important, yes, but there were more important things going on right now. 

“It will be in an hour, T’Challa must ascend to the ancestral plane first.” Shuri said. Mika knew all of those words separately, but wasn’t quite sure what it meant when Shuri put them all together in that order. She showed her strength as she pulled Mika down the stairs, this time to the medical wing instead of the lab. The normal amount of hustle and bustle had resumed, and there, in the corner, laid Bucky. He was still asleep, the lines of his face soft and his right hand resting on his abdomen as he breathed slow and deep. Mika stepped up to his bed as Shuri took a tablet from someone nearby and immediately began tapping away at it, checking his vitals and his brainwaves. She was saying something, but Mika wasn’t listening, only focusing on the man in front of her. She put her hand against his arm, barely touching it; she expected it to be cold, but his skin was the unusual extra warm that it always was. At her touch, the muscles of his forearm tensed slightly, his fingers twitching. She stepped back again, wanting to give him space, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding it painfully tight.

Shuri looked at the movement, and Bucky’s eyes snapped open. Mika smiled at him, but his eyes were wide, and angry, and confused. He immediately sat up, and she could see what was left of his metal shoulder moving as he tried to reach for her with an arm that was no longer there. He was speaking in Russian, his voice low and gravelly, as if he hadn’t used it in years instead of just a few days. His eyes flew around the room, wildly trying to take in everything at once. He tried to move again, and his eyes seemed to go out of focus. He finally let go of her wrist then, clutching his head and shouting a loud, “Fuck!” Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. 

“We need to sedate him.” Shuri said quickly, gesturing to one of the men in white. He stepped forward, a syringe at the ready. Bucky saw him too, and Mika could almost read his mind as he saw the man stepping up to him. She reached out and held onto his forearm with both hands, hoping that she had enough strength to hold him back. Between that and her distraction, it was enough to pull his attention away. The man sunk the needle into Bucky’s shoulder, and his body began to relax. He fell sideways onto the bed, his elbow barely catching him, and Mika put her hand behind his head to try and slow its descent. He still looked confused, but now he also looked more scared, and just as the sedative started really taking hold, it almost seemed like he recognized her. Almost.

The silence that surrounded them following the outburst weighed heavily in Mika’s stomach. Shuri handed the tablet away, hesitating before putting a consoling hand on Mika’s arm. “I’m so sorry.” she said, and Mika shook her head.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” she said. She knew that, logically, it would take some time for Bucky’s brain to heal or reorganize or whatever, but she’d been so excited to see him awake that she hadn’t considered it. “I could understand what he was saying. He didn’t mean to be aggressive. He was just...scared.”   


“That’s understandable.” Shuri said in a tone much too mothering for a girl of sixteen. “His brain...I think it needs time to adjust to its new normal. His scans were completely unorganized, and some of the readings were off the charts. He was overstimulated.”

“So...how can we fix that?” she asked. Now that he was sedated, he just looked like he was asleep again. Mika wanted so badly to hold his hand, but didn’t want to risk disturbing him. 

“I’ll give him some medicine, to help with the healing process. And we’ll send him to the Amari village, on the outskirts of the city. They have the best healers, and will have a quiet place for him to recuperate.” she explained. Mika was confused.

“So there isn’t really anything you can do?” she asked in a small voice. She didn’t mean to sound rude or ungrateful, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that, I just…” she trailed off, suddenly forgetting every word in the English language.

“I understand what you mean.” Shuri said, sounding very much like she was pretending her feelings weren’t hurt. “I’m afraid we’ve done, medically, all we can do. Now it’s up to Sergeant Barnes to do the rest.”

When she phrased it like that, it made much more sense, and Mika found herself nodding along. “Okay. I trust you.” she said as sincerely as she could, hoping to make up for her blunder before. Shuri nodded, and reached over to squeeze her hand.

“He’ll be fine. I’m afraid it will just take a little more time.” she said.

“Well, patience has never been a strength of mine.” Mika said with a humorless laugh. “But no time like the present to learn, hm?”

“Exactly.” Shuri agreed. “Now, come on. My assistants here will handle his transfer. You and I have somewhere to be.”

“You said there was a celebration for your brother, and I think I should just...stay with him.” Mika pointed out,  trying to dig her heels in and prevent her guiding her out again, though she looked over her shoulder at Bucky until she could no longer see him.

“There is. And you’re going with me. And don’t try to argue that you don’t belong there or you want to stay here in the lab or whatever. I will not allow you to sit in that apartment and think about this. You need a distraction. And, you owe me for being accidentally mean. Now come on.” Shuri said everything in the most regal voice Mika had ever heard, and she found she couldn’t really argue with her. Shuri was right; all she wanted to do was go up to the apartment, change into some comfortable clothing, and wallow in self misery in the bed that was too soft and too empty. But that wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t what Bucky would want. They were in the last phase of his healing now, and all that could be done was to wait. 

So if she needed to wait, she might as well try to distract herself. 


	50. Turmoil

Mika thought the celebrations would go on for days or weeks, but it was less than twenty-four hours before they were back to business as usual. Except now, there was a piece of the lab missing. She didn’t realize it was a habit to stop a the little room with the cryo pods until she was there, this time presented with three empty chambers instead of two. A pang went through her heart, and tears nearly fell, but she choked them back. She asked Shuri if she could go to the village with Bucky, the only thing she could do in this situation, but she gave her a sad smile and told her that it was best to let him rest in the warmth of the village, and let the land heal him. Mika wanted to fight her on this; she was growing antsy, just wanting Bucky to be awake and back with her. She felt like she was suspended, supported but without her feet on the ground. She just wanted to have something solid underneath her again. 

That afternoon, she sat at her station working on a way to translate Shuri’s code to something she could actually understand, when Shuri came scampering over to her, looking very excited. The girl’s white dress made her dark skin even more beautiful, and she’d carefully twisted her hair into an elaborate bun. Mika would never say aloud that it reminded her of a couronne, she just decided that she would make one for her in the morning.

“Do you want to see something funny?” she asked, pulling Mika’s attention away from the screen in front of her. She turned to her with a perked eyebrow, wondering exactly what mischief was going on now.

“Depends. Am I going to get in trouble for it?” she asked in return, her eyes glancing around the lab to see if anyone was watching them. It seemed like she had chosen the perfect moment to set whatever plan she had into motion.

“Why do you always assume I’m going to get you into trouble?” Shuri said, her hand going to her heart in mock offense. 

“Because you have come very close on multiple occasions over the past week.” Mika pointed out, Shuri waving off the comment. “Remember, I’m here out of kindness from your brother.”

“Yes, and the bit of teenage rebellion that he never grew out of.” she replied. “Which, I’ll have you know, still runs full force in me. Which brings me back to my original question.”

Mika sighed, knowing that it was useless to try and fight with her. “I don’t know why you bother asking. You either convince me or use your Princess orders to make me go anyways.” she said. Really, Shuri was quickly turning into another younger sister. But for all of Nicoletta’s artistic talent, Shuri’s was in science. The best of both worlds.

“Finally, you’re learning!” Shuri said, clapping her hands before grabbing her wrist, pulling her towards the stairs to a different level of the lab. “My brother has a mission today, so he’ll need new equipment. I’ve completely modified his suit, and I have a bit of a joke to play on him.”

“Shuri…” Mika said in a warning tone. Her brother was officially named the King now; didn’t that mean anything to her? She laughed, waving her off again.

“I have to show him how to use it! Whatever happens during the trial is not my fault.” she said cryptically, and instantly Mika was nervous. She didn’t like the sound of that at all. When they reached the new level of the lab, Shuri set her up at another desk, pulling up the files she was working on previously. “Okay just sit here, and pretend to be working. He’ll be here any minute.”

Mika muttered to herself in Romanian, mentioning  _ regrets _ and  _ homelessness _ and  _ damn teenagers _ . Shuri, of course, couldn’t understand her, and simply ignored her to greet her brother at the door. Mika heard them as they made their way around the lab, discussing the new inventions and Shuri making her jokes. It was moments like these that humanized T’Challa; here, he wasn’t the King. In the lab, he was just Shuri’s brother. Mika grinned as she caught a glimpse of them, T’Challa looking incredibly proud of his sister and all that she had made.

Then came the part Mika was afraid of. “If you’re going to take on Klaue, you need to have the best the design group has to offer. Exhibit A.” she explained, bringing him close to where Mika was “working” and showing him the mannequins. He nodded to her briefly before turning back to the models in front of him, trying to see where Shuri was going with this.

“My design.” T’Challa said, a bit of affection in his voice. Shuri quickly shut that down.

“Old tech.” she chided, making him balk in offense. “Functional, but old! ‘Hey, people are shooting at me! Wait, let me put on my helmet.’”

“Enough.” he said softly, not taking kindly to her insults of his suit. Mika had to bite her lip to keep from laughing; sure, they were discussing high-tech vibranium super suits, but the sibling argument was so typical that she couldn’t help but find it funny.

“Now, look at these.” Shuri said, showing the two necklaces on display. They discussed the pros and cons of both of them, as well as the nanotechnology behind them. Soft clicks echoed through the lab as the suit sprang into being, gleaming in the bright lights of the lab. T’Challa was obviously impressed, and honestly so was Mika. Shuri told him to strike it, and Mika jumped as he did, sending the mannequin across the lab. “Not that hard, genius!”

“You told me to strike it, you didn’t say how hard!” T’Challa countered as Shuri ran over to grab the suit from where it landed several feet away. 

“I invite you to my lab, and you just kick things around?” she complained, huffing angrily as she put the model back where it belonged.

“Well, maybe you should make it a little stronger.” he offered, and Mika could practically feel the annoyed look from his sister. However, he was distracted by something. “Hey. Wait a minute.”

“The nanites absorb the kinetic energy and hold it in place for redistribution.” Shuri explained, forgetting her anger due to the excitement of the suit. Mika chanced a look over her shoulder to find the suit, which was previously all black, glowing purple in the section T’Challa had kicked before. 

“Very nice.” he commented, his eyes taking in all the details. Yes, Shuri may be the genius in the family, but T’Challa was brilliant as well. She could see him analyzing and calculating, figuring out exactly how he could use this information. He was trying to solve the puzzle before Shuri told him the answer. Of course, she was too excited to allow that.

“Strike it again in the same spot.” she instructed, backing up and pressing on her beads. Mika knew the look of the video recorder; she’d seen it enough times over the past few days working alongside the younger girl. She stealthily turned; if she was going to get into trouble for whatever plans Shuri was enacting, she was at least going to see the entire thing.

“You’re recording?” T’Challa asked suspiciously; he knew better than to completely trust his sister.

“For research purposes.” she explained, sounding just offended enough that he let down his guard, turning back to the suit. He did as she asked, and a purple wave extended from the suit, launching him back and sending him tumbling to the floor. Shuri’s laugh, loud and teasing, echoed through the lab, and Mika quickly hid her face to hide her own giggles. 

“Delete that footage!” he exclaimed from the floor, though everyone knew that Shuri would do no such thing. He directed his attention to Mika; she was hoping to escape the moment, but no such luck. “And Mika, you saw nothing!”

“Nothing, Your Highness.” she agreed, holding her hands up. Of course, her voice still shook with amusement, but they both pretended that it didn’t. He climbed back to his feet, going to admire the technology in front of him. He put his arm around Shuri’s shoulders, shaking her in an affectionate manner and making her whine.

“Some of your best work yet, Shuri.” he said, making the suit retreat into the necklace. There was an element of pride to his voice that made Mika feel like she was intruding on a private moment. She focused as hard as she could on the screen in front of her, trying to decide which would be better between acting like she wasn’t there or trying to sneak out of the lab. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long, as the King took the new offerings from his sister and left, off for whatever mission was so important that he had to stop celebrating his coronation. 

“Okay, you can stop hiding now.” Shuri called to her, a smirk still on her face as she remembered her joke. “I told you you wouldn’t get into trouble.”

“I don’t actually remember you distinctly saying that.” Mika responded, spinning her stool and letting out a relieved breath. It really was funny, what she did to the King. She just didn’t allow herself to appreciate the humor in it until he was out of earshot, and therefore she was out of the danger zone to get kicked out of Wakanda. It was certainly not the home she grew up in, but it was slowly starting to feel that way, though she couldn’t deny that she missed her friends and her sister terribly. She wondered idly if she would be allowed to contact them again, once everything blew over.

“Well I implied it.” Shuri said, getting distracted by one of the pieces on the table next to her and going to fix something. Mika wanted to know what it was like in the girl’s mind, with all her knowledge and curiosity. She took the teen by the shoulders, directing her back towards the door.

“Come on, you’ve got other things to work on first.” she reminded her. Shuri skirted from her grasp, trying to stay on this level of the lab.

“But T’Challa said that I need to be available for backup! I have to be close to the sand table, just in case they need me.” she said, pointing to the large pit of sand on the other side of the lab. Mika’s confusion must have shown on her face, because the Princess continued, “Have I not shown you the sand table?”

“You haven’t.” Mika said, once again allowing the girl to drag her across her lab. Really, why did she even bother  _ thinking _ about putting up a fight anymore? She led her to the great pile of black sand, and while it just looked like something she could see at one of those volcanic beaches, she knew it was going to be something special. Shuri pulled up a screen next to the sand, a smirk on her face.

“How has your training been going?” she asked, idly tapping the hologram a few times. Mika looked at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Pretty good, I think. Why?” she asked, immediately apprehensive. She’d seen first hand just a few minutes ago how much of a trickster Shuri could be. After a few more taps, the sand flew into the air, shaping into a form that looked incredibly like Okoye. 

“Go ahead, try and strike her.” she said, giving her pause. It sounded a lot like what she told her brother earlier. Her thought process must have shown on her face, because she added, “Don’t worry, the settings are low.”

“I’m trusting you. I may regret it, but I’m trusting you.” Mika said, hoping to guilt her into taking it easy on her. She squared up against the sand figure, sending a fist out towards it. It dodged her, grabbing her wrist as it flew by. It didn’t try and fight back, simply letting go of her and returning to its original stance. Mika’s eyes grew wide, and she tried again with the same result. “This is amazing!” 

“I know!” Shuri said before clearing her throat and trying to put on a cool front. “I mean, thank you. It’s one of my favorite inventions.”

“So this is what you’ll use if T’Challa needs your help?” she asked. “Like, a remote fighter?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be the getaway driver.” she said. She made a few adjustments, and the sand Dora Milaje warrior disintegrated and was replaced with the front end of a car, the windshield glittering with the view of a place that Mika did not recognize. She shook her head, laughing.

“Your brilliance will never cease to amaze me.” she said, making Shuri beam. “Well, I suppose I’ll go back up to our usual office. And then clearly I need to go to training. Have fun being on call!”

“See you later!” Shuri said, sliding onto a stool and scooting to a table, her mind already moving on to the next thing. Mika shook her head, laughing once again as she went back to the area of the lab she was more familiar with. She passed her day exactly as she said she would, working on her projects and going down to the training room later that night. Now that Bucky was out of the palace and healing in that village on the outskirts, she was trying even harder to exhaust herself so that she could sleep. Usually, she was fine with the situation she was in; but at night, when she was alone in the quiet, she felt the weight of it pressing down on her. 

The next morning, Shuri was all excited to tell her about getting tagged in the night before, saying that she was able to drive T’Challa through the streets of South Korea - before their car was destroyed, that is. And now, they were nearly back, with someone who was going to need their help. Apparently, she said with more excitement than Mika thought was healthy, the person’s injury was so bad that if they didn’t bring him here, he would likely die. That sounded terrifying to her, but the Princess had a heartiness to her spirit that Mika had never seen in anyone else. Again, she reminded her of her age, as she still had the boundless confidence of youth. She hoped Shuri never lost it.

An hour later, Shuri pushed away from her desk, scampering to the hallway. “Great! Another broken white boy for us to fix. This is going to be fun.” she heard her say, and looked over to see a table floating beside her with an unconscious man on it. She couldn’t see the details of his face, only his greying hair and the pallor of his skin. Shuri and T’Challa pulled him onto the platform, a great wall of hologram rising to give her all the information she needed. Two women followed behind them; Okoye, and someone she did not recognize. “He will live.” she heard from beyond the veil, then an exclamation that someone had arrived. Mika did not recognize the name, but used the moment of distraction to slowly inch her way around the wall and see who was so injured that only Wakandan technology could save them.

Unfortunately, she recognized the man immediately. Agent Ross laid unconscious on the table, his face somehow still almost as severe as when he was awake. Mika immediately froze as her mind whirled in fifty different directions. She had escaped arrest from this man -  _ twice! _ \- and was here because she was hiding from him. He couldn’t know she was here, it would ruin everything for both her and Bucky, as well as the frail peace with the new King. 

“Shuri!” she whispered, getting the princess’ attention. She turned to her, as did Okoye and the other woman, confusion evident on all their faces. Mika gave them an awkward smile before pulling Shuri past the wall. “That’s Agent Ross.”

“Yes, of the United States Central Intelligence Agency.” Shuri said, confused as to why Mika was so concerned. Mika took a steadying breath, trying to choose her words wise enough that Shuri could see the urgency of the situation without panicking.

“He’s the man that arrested me. And Bucky. And sentenced me to the Raft.” Mika explained, and Shuri’s eyes widened. “He can’t see me, okay? He can’t know I’m here. It will put your brother in  _ so much trouble _ .”

Shuri thought for a moment before nodding. She reached for a large tablet on the desk, handing it to Mika, then pressed a few things on her bracelet before holding it next to hers. “There. Now you can keep working in the apartment until things get settled. And I will contact you if you need to move.”

Mika’s heart felt like it was going to burst. “Princess, I-” she tried to give her usual speech, but Shuri cut her off.

“When will you realize that you are welcome here? Now go. We’ll take care of this later. In the meantime, I need to go put his spine back together.” she said. Mika nodded; after all, the care of her new patient would need to be her priority.

“Thank you, Shuri.” she said, giving the girl’s hand an affectionate squeeze before taking off towards the other stairs. Even if Agent Ross looked very much unconscious, she could  _ not _ take the chance of him waking up and spotting her. Her heartbeat was in her ears the entire way up the stairs, and even if the open living area was probably safe, she still went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her to limit any prying eyes who happened to make it up to the top floor. The open window and balcony would have to be enough for her for the next few days. 

The night passed slowly, and she was unable to sleep thanks to her nerves. The next morning dawned bright, just like it had every other morning she’d been there, but something felt different. Something felt wrong. It wasn’t just that Ross was here; no, something else was off. She couldn’t sit and work, instead pacing as the minutes ticked by. She considered reaching out to Shuri via the beads of her bracelet, but knew she couldn’t run the risk of Ross knowing where she was. So instead she just waited, watching the sun travel across the sky, her anxiety growing with every degree it moved. When was Shuri going to call her?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Mika’s answer finally came. She heard a great commotion from the lab below, one that did not match anything she’d heard before. Despite her reservations, and her fear of getting caught, she ran down the stairs. If someone was destroying Shuri’s lab, or hurting her in anyway...Mika wasn’t sure exactly what she could do, but she needed to do something. She couldn’t sit idly now.

But it was only Shuri in the lab, rummaging through everything in a frantic manner. The necklace from the day before was hanging from her arm, and she was shoving things into her pockets. “Shuri?” she asked, but the Princess didn’t hear her. However, someone else did. A woman in green held some sort of circular weapon to her throat, and even if it wasn’t touching her Mika knew that it was sharp. 

“Who are you?” she asked, her eyes sharp. This was the same woman that had come in with Ross and the King earlier. If she was protecting the Princess, that meant she could trust her, right? But what was she protecting the Princess from?

“What happened?” Mika asked, and this time Shuri heard her. She turned to her so Mika could see her tear stained face, her lower lip still trembling. Before she could answer, the woman in green stepped closer. Now Mika could feel  _ exactly _ how sharp her weapon was.

“Who. Are. You?” she asked again, this time her voice much lower and more danger. 

“Nakia, it’s okay.” Shuri said, her voice thick with tears. She ran to Mika then, burying her head in her chest and wrapping her arms around her, taking a moment to sob and murmur in her own language. Nakia looked just as confused as Mika felt; coming down here was giving her more questions than answers.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Mika said, rubbing the girl’s back. Nakia’s gaze softened as Shuri shook her head.

“No, it’s not.” she said, pulling back. Mika put her hands on Shuri’s cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumbs.

“What happened?” she asked. Shuri opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. 

“The King is dead. And a war hungry outsider sits on the throne.” Nakia supplied, and while Shuri couldn’t say anything to confirm or deny it, the tears rolling down her face said everything. Mika’s heart plummeted. What were they going to do now? She turned to Nakia.

“What do we do?” she asked resolutely, and the woman shook her head.

“Where we must go now, you cannot follow.” she said. Shuri looked like she was about to disagree, but was silenced by a look from Nakia. They seemed to have a silent conversation before Shuri finally nodded, tapping her beads again before holding the bracelet to Mika’s.

“This was supposed to be a surprise.” she said, her voice still wavering. “But there is a place, in the countryside that I was preparing for you and Sergeant Barnes. It’s not quite ready, but it will keep you safe for the time being.”

“Princess, I can’t ask-” Mika was once again interrupted.

“This is literally all I can do for right now. We will come back for you, once we-” This time, the Princess was interrupted by Nakia.

“We should be going.” Nakia interjected, and Mika knew why. She didn’t want her to know the plans;  _ plausible deniability _ . Plus, this woman didn’t know her, didn’t know whose side she was on. Mika was not offended, as it was the smart thing to do. She nodded, pulling Shuri into another hug.

“Be careful.” she told her before saying a prayer over her in Romanian, one that she only heard her mother say in great times of distress. She’d forgotten it until this moment, but it felt necessary. She looked to Nakia, whose expression was resolute. The Princess was in her charge, and she would look out for her. Mika let go of Shuri, watching as the two ran out of the lab. She was stunned at that moment, and she felt completely paralyzed. Should she follow them? Or just do as she asked?

She finally decided that she couldn’t just sit by, taking off at a run and trying to track them down. But as soon as she went a direction that the beads didn’t like, they started vibrating at a painful frequency, as if Shuri herself were yelling at her. 

“Dammit, Shuri.” Mika said, finally giving in a turning away. A coolness spread over her wrist; the bracelet had oscillated so hard that it had broken the skin, and now the beads were healing the damage they’d done. Very well, she would listen, no matter how much she didn’t want to. She took off at a run, following the beads through the city and out into the grasslands. When she could no longer run, she dropped to a walk, but never stopped moving. Even to an outsider who only arrived today, it would be obvious that Mika did not belong. She needed to hide,  _ now _ . 

The moon was high in the night sky by the time she made it to the little cottage. Shuri seemed to have carved out a chunk of the mountain and wedged it in there, three sides of it still exposed to the outside. The front porch overlooked a field, with a dilapidated house and pens for animals still barely standing. In the darkness, Mika thought they looked as if they were for sure haunted. The beads let her in to the front door, and while the cottage was built, there was no furniture or anything in it. It was a beautiful design and wonderfully made, so nice that it brought tears to her eyes. When did Shuri have time to organize all of this?

There was no bed, but the water and electricity worked. There were enough essentials in the fridge for her to get by for a few days, hopefully long enough until Shuri and Nakia were able to complete whatever they needed, or at least make their escape. And now, that she was sitting alone, she worried about Bucky as well. What would all this mean for him? Where was he?

“Can you take me to the Amari village?” she asked her beads, but for once the beads were silent, and Mika did not know enough about how they worked to configure them. “Can you take me to Bucky?” Nothing. “Can you at least tell me if he’s okay?” This time, they blinked green once before falling silent again. Green meant good, right? 

She took a deep breath and went to the front porch, sitting down on it. With the open grasslands in front of her and the empty house behind her, she felt more alone than she had in her entire time here, perhaps her entire life. The King was dead, Shuri was gone, and Bucky was, as far as she was concerned, lost. She decided she would give Shuri three days; if she didn’t hear from her by then, she would take matters into her own hands. 

With that resolution in place, she let herself break down and cry. It was all she could do for right now - cry, and wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops! only a chapter and a half for black panther! i tried to make it longer, but let's be real, it'd be too much to try and put her in there. 
> 
> next chapter we get a sweet sweet reunion!!


	51. Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's bodily injury in this chapter (it gets resolved thought) as well as some smut at the end.

He woke to quiet and warmth. 

It took a few moments to connect words to these feelings. He knew he was someone, he knew he had lived a life. A long life. But the far recesses of his mind were foggy. The haze was slowly lifting as he became fully conscious. He wasn’t worried about the unknown, because it was accompanied by the feeling that things would be clear soon. He opened his eyes to see faces in front of him - small, dark faces that smiled at him with surprise and glee.  _ Children _ , that was the word that came to mind as they scampered away. Somehow, he knew his face was not the same color as theirs. He sat up, taking in his surroundings.  _ Dirt. Blanket. Bed.  _ Words came back to him one by one, painting the picture of the world. His senses were sharp; they were not this sharp when he was born, they were sharpened by scientists. Yes, the memories were coming back now - but they didn’t have the same pain as before.

Pain. He pinched the skin of his...his... _ leg _ , that was the word, the resulting feeling reminding him of what pain was. But pain didn’t bother him, not really. He’d known real pain, felt real pain, lived real pain. He looked to the  _ door _ , seeing the light outside. He pulled himself to his feet, dusting off his clothes. He walked out into the light, the  _ sun  _ warming him further. It felt good, this heat. It made it feel more real, and less like a dream. Though maybe this was a dream, he thought, spotting someone who must be an angel standing in front of him. Her face was familiar as she turned to him, a bright smile on her face.

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes.” she said. He knew he knew her name, but it wasn’t forming as easily as the other words.  _ Sergeant Barnes _ had been his name in a past life, but it wasn’t his name now. His name now was…

“Bucky.” he said.  _ Shuri _ , he thought, her name finally coming to him. He felt air move past them -  _ wind -  _ and the sounds of the water hitting the shore -  _ waves _ . 

“How are you feeling?” Shuri asked. He took a moment to contemplate his answer; his body felt lighter than it had in ages, his mind clear and rested. He didn’t think he’d ever felt like this.

“Good.” he said, and he meant it. She smiled again, gesturing for him to turn. There was a large machine behind him. An  _ automobile _ .

“Come. You have much to learn.” she said. He paused, looking out over the water as the sun started sinking towards the horizon. It took him a couple minutes before he could tear his eyes away from the beauty - was it always this incredible? - and follow her to the automobile. The children from earlier watched from afar, hiding behind their homes as he made eye contact with them. Animals scampered through the trees, their wings flapping as they fidgeted and flitted from branch to branch.  _ Birds _ .

_ Don’t cry, Little Bird. _

The words came to him, though the context didn’t. He knew he’d said them, but why? 

He sat in the vehicle, copying Shuri’s actions to fasten a safety belt over his torso. She tapped on a screen, pulling up someone else’s face.  _ Video _ .

“Yes, Princess?” the person asked. He thought he recognized him, but he couldn’t be sure. There were a lot of faces in his mind, but not a lot of names. 

“Where is my new best friend currently?” Shuri asked, getting the vehicle to move. It was a smooth ride, despite the uneven terrain. 

“In the lab, looking over your project from yesterday. Would you like for me to get her?” he questioned. Shuri waved him off.

“No, I want to surprise her.” she said, a mischievous grin on her face. She looked to Bucky again, making him smile.  _ A joke _ , he was in on the joke. 

His mind continued to organize itself as Shuri drove them...he didn’t know where.  _ Home _ was the word that usually would go there, but he was not home. Home was somewhere else. The back of his mind tingled. He could envision a little apartment, a grey couch, a soft bed with pastel sheets. But that wasn’t home either. Home was...some _ one _ else? The automobile stopped before he could decide. They exited, Shuri confidently taking hold of his hand as she led him down the hallways.

“How much do you remember?” she asked. What a loaded question. He’d lived so many lives, but only some of them were on purpose. He remembered so many things, many of which he wished he could forget. But not everything.

“A good amount, I think. It’s coming back.” he said. He could remember the war. He could remember the Soldier. But he couldn’t  _ feel _ the Soldier anymore. The ominous presence in the back of his mind was gone. He wasn’t weighed down with the chains Hydra had put around him anymore. He wasn’t perfect, he wouldn’t ever be, but at least now he could see that the deaths he’d caused were not his doing. He no longer felt like he needed to be punished, or casted out. 

“Do you have a headache? Any pain?” she barely gave him time to answer before asking more questions. He didn’t have a headache now, but with the never ending questions, he might.

_ Does it hurt? _

_ No, not really. _

“No. Everything feels fine.” he said, which was mostly the truth. He had a memory of someone asking about his pain before; he hadn’t wanted to trouble them. He couldn’t remember the situation, and trying to think slowed his walking. Shuri tugged him as if he were a dog on a walk, getting him to stride alongside her. She walked remarkably fast for such a small person. 

“Any numbness? Tingling? Does anything feel weak?” she questioned. They went down an elevator, going to a different floor. Where were they going? To the lab she mentioned before? She wanted to surprise someone; was that where they were going now?

“Everything seems to be in order.” he said, once again taking mental account of his body. His shoulder ached, but his shoulder always ached. Everything else felt remarkably  _ good _ . He hadn’t felt this good in years. Decades. They stopped at a turn in the corridor.

“Wait here.” Shuri instructed. He did as she asked, but couldn’t resist peeking around the corner to see where she was going. Across the room, he could see a woman. She was beautiful, her dark hair pulled back and her brown eyes focused on the screen in front of her. She wore a short dress with a brilliant pattern, showing off the length and strength of her legs. The pull of familiarity was so strong it made his chest feel as if it were going to burst. He knew her face; it was the face he’d seen in his dreams as he slept in the warm little hut. He actually placed his hand over his sternum, his heart beating faster as he ducked back around. There was an overwhelming warmth, a pull and a joy that surprised him. He knew this feeling. He knew it.

_ Love. _

Memories came to him then, of sharing pizzas and cups of coffee, of holding someone close while a movie played, of kisses so sweet and tender that he thought it couldn’t be real. Though he wasn’t next to her, he knew she smelled of flowers, knew that her hands were surprisingly strong thanks to her love of baking, knew that her mind was sharp and her heart soft. She knew about the darkness in his mind. She loved him anyway. He’d doubted that, before, because the presence in his mind told him that it was a lie, that he’d done too much wrong, that no one could feel that way about him. But now he knew she was telling the truth. 

_ Mika _ . That was her name. The word felt like the first breath after nearly drowning. More and more memories came to him, and he found himself not wanting to wait for Shuri to come fetch him. He wanted to touch her, hold her, to feel the warmth of her skin against his and the beat of her heart. He wanted to hear her voice and kiss her lips and-

“Do you remember her?.” Shuri appeared, giving him a conspiratory smirk. He nodded, his voice caught in his throat at the thought of being next to her again. “Let’s give her a surprise then.” 

He let her lead him around the corner. Mika was still distracted with the screen in front of her, her brows pinched together as she tried to solve whatever puzzle was in front of her. She turned at their entrance, and the look on her face seemed to capture all the emotions that were swirling around inside of him. She stood up and moved towards them, her steps slow and unsure, as if she also thought she were dreaming. She stopped with a respectable distance between them; he wished that she weren’t so far away.

“Do you…” she paused, clearing her throat of the emotion building. “Do you remember me?”

“I do.” he said, his voice soft and sure. “I remember everything.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but it was true enough. He reached out to her then, and she nearly lept on him, her arms going around his shoulders as he crushed her to his chest with his one. She still smelled like flowers, though it was slightly different now. But her skin was still soft, her embrace still tight. She was trying very hard not to cry and failing miserably, her tears wetting the cloth of his shirt. 

“I missed you.” she said, mumbling in Romanian. He’d forgotten he knew that language, but it felt right to hear her speak it. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” he said back. She finally pulled away, just far enough to rest her forehead against his. “How long was I gone?”

“Almost two weeks.” she replied. “A lot has happened.”

“Are you alright?” he asked immediately. So much could have happened in that amount of time; he subtly ran his hand over her back and her hip, checking for injuries. 

“I’m fine.” she said, her hands going to his cheeks and gently stroking them with her thumbs. “And you? Are you alright?” 

“I’m great.” he said. Now that the pleasantries were out of the way, he found he couldn’t wait any longer. His hand went to the back of her head, finally pulling her in for a kiss. He remembered how it was to kiss her before, but God, this was  _ incredible _ . His enhanced senses used to overwhelm him, but now he could kiss her without hesitance or fear. It was enthralling, addictive, everything it was supposed to be. He wanted to kiss her and kiss her until the end of his days. And while she was surprised at first, she easily sank into the kiss, her hands tugging him as close as he could get as her lips moved against his. 

“Ahem.” someone cleared their throat, and while Mika’s initial reaction was to jump back like a teenager caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to, Bucky’s grip was strong, his one arm holding her tight to him still. She snuck a look over her shoulder; thank goodness it was only Shuri, and not the King. “Sorry to interrupt, but Bucky, we need to address your shoulder so I can finish your new prosthesis. I promise after that I will leave you alone.” her voice carried a meaning that her words did not, and neither Mika nor Bucky could find it in themselves to try and scramble for an excuse. 

“Yes, Princess.” Bucky said softly, and Mika bit back the groan of frustration that she wanted to let out. She finally,  _ finally,  _ had Bucky back, and now there was another hoop for them to jump through. She immediately felt guilty at the thought; Shuri had already done so much for them, and only wanted to make sure that he was healthy and happy. She shouldn’t be frustrated, she should be grateful. She did, however, refuse to let go of Bucky’s hand, following them into the medical bay. Shuri sat him down in a chair, pulling off the cloth that was covering his left arm. He turned to Mika.

“I don’t know what’s underneath it.” he said quietly. He was nervous to have the silver removed, knowing that with the pain that had been nearly constant all this time, there was no way it was going to look good. It had been almost eighty years since he’d seen his own arm, and even then it was a brief, feverish moment when he woke while they were shaping the stump. 

“Then Shuri really needs to get it off then, hm?” she said, pulling up a stool next to him and taking his hand in hers. He looked relieved that she was staying with him, though he hoped whatever was there wouldn’t send her running. Mika looked to Shuri, who was readying a tray of various medical equipment that looked far more sleek and efficient than anything she’d seen before. The Princess had a serious look on her face, taking her tools and putting her sharp eyes on Bucky.

“Are you ready?” she asked. He nodded, his face as calm as ever. His fingers grasped Mika’s ever so slightly, the only sign that he was anxious. She held his hand steadily, putting her other hand between her knees so that no one could see how it was shaking. Shuri went to work then, using some sort of laser to slowly, inch by inch, break apart the thick scar tissue holding on to the last bit of Hydra. He expected pain, or to smell burning, but surprisingly neither arose. The laser felt sharp, yes, but it moved so quickly and the tissue holding onto the silver arm was so thick that there was very little sensation in it. The last bit broke apart with a soft  _ pop _ , and she put her tools down on the table before gingerly taking hold of the arm. They all held their breath as she pulled it away, the silver separating from his body with a sickening  _ squelch _ . 

Shuri had mentioned before that her scans picked up on an infection underneath the prosthetic, but whatever her readings had said before, they had vastly underestimated. Bucky grimaced and let out the lowest growl of pain as thin silver threads slid out from the interior of his arm, the ends of them stained with his blood and the tops of them beginning to rust. Shreds of tissue hung from his shoulder, and while at one point they could probably tell what was muscle or nerve or bone, it was so covered in deep yellow infection and thick black necrotic tissue that most of it was unrecognizable. On the short flap of skin hanging over his shoulder, Mika could barely see the black point of the tattooed star. Bucky had told her once that his shoulder didn’t really hurt, and at that time, she had the feeling he was lying. Now she knew that for sure. 

She’d seen plenty of infections on her medical dramas, so at first she was able to tolerate it. But no one ever talks about the  _ smell _ . She tried to keep a straight face and hold her breath as it hit her, a stench unlike anything she’d ever encountered before in her life. It made her stomach roll and her eyes prickle, but she stayed right next to him, holding his hand. Shuri kept an impressively straight face, analyzing the arm in front of her before reaching for different tools.

“I think...it’ll be tough, but I think I can save some of this.” she said, taking a probe and gently touching the tissue in front of her. Bucky shook his head.

“It’s not worth it. Just take it off.” he said shortly. He was tired of trying to fight everything they’d done to him, tired of trying to salvage himself from the pieces they left behind. Shuri had cut everything out of his head, it was time to cut the rest of it out as well. She looked surprised at his statement, but Mika really wasn’t. Now that she knew how much it probably hurt him, she agreed; it was better to just be done with it. 

“Are you sure?” Shuri asked, her hands pausing. She didn’t like not fixing something, but Bucky thought that this was beyond fixing. 

“Yes. Please, just take it off.” he said. He tried to rotate the joint, but without the assistance of the metal arm, the muscles no longer knew how to work properly, the shoulder shifting and pinching painfully. He shook his head again; it was time to let it go.

“Very well.” she said, putting down her tools and picking up a tablet. She punched in a few things before removing a bead from her bracelet. Lines of code glowed blue on it for a moment, and Bucky and Mika both wondered exactly what this would have to do with the amputation.

“You may not want to watch this.” Bucky said. The minimal memories he had of the initial amputation were traumatic enough, and while he trusted Shuri infinitely more than those psychopathic doctors, he still didn’t want her to go through it. She grabbed his hand with both of hers, scooting her stool closer to his seat.

“I’m not leaving you.” she said, her eyes fierce. She’d seen him reset his own ankle and relocate his own shoulder, she’d seen him punched and kicked and hurt; she could handle the gore of it, or at least pretend enough. But she’d also lost him and gotten him multiple times over the past couple weeks, and she was not about to let go again. His jaw went slack at her statement. In his head, he knew how much they meant to each other, but it still surprised him exactly how much she cared for him. Before, he felt undeserving of this affection. Now he still didn’t feel like he was good enough for her, but it wasn’t the debilitating sense that it was before. 

“It should be fine.” Shuri piped up, reminding them that she was still there. The bead, now ready, was inserted into the flesh of Bucky’s remaining limb. It felt cool, and while he could feel it moving through the minimal arm left, it didn’t hurt. It just felt extremely weird. It reached a certain point and stopped, a low whirring sounding from his shoulder. They all silently watched and listened, Bucky and Mika unsure of what was going on and Shuri just idly waiting for her tech to do its work. He felt the coolness start to spread through his shoulder in a line, and he realized that the little bead was actually performing the amputation from the inside out. It reached the very bottom layer of his skin and spread down, salvaging the remaining tissue to cover the wound. It beeped twice, and Shuri easily removed the damaged tissue, depositing it in a biohazard bag while the bead pulled his skin together and stitched it up. Between the technology and his advanced healing capabilities, there was nothing but a small scar where it all came together after it was finished, the bead popping out into Shuri’s waiting hand. His old scars over his chest were still there, but they no longer felt like they were inhibiting his breathing. The skin over his shoulder was smooth, and for the first time in nearly eighty years, he didn’t have any pain. 

“God. Thank you. Thank you so much.” he breathed, letting go of Mika’s hand to pull Shuri in for a hug. She made a noise of surprise before putting her arms around him, holding him tight.

“Of course. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” she said, laughing. It occurred to Mika that the girl had no idea exactly what she’d done, or how much she’d helped Bucky. She’d literally undone decades worth of pain and torture, all in a couple weeks. He ran his hand over what was left of his shoulder, the skin unbroken and nonpainful. Amazing. “Now, I’ll have to see you tomorrow for your new prosthetic, but other than that, you’re good to go. I’m sure Mika is dying to show you your new home.”

“My new…” he looked to Mika, who was looking at him with such a loving smile that his heart skipped a beat. When he turned back to Shuri, she was grinning like she was very proud of a secret. “I don’t know what to say, Princess. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” she said, pulling off her gloves and standing up. “Now, off you go. I daresay you’ve left Mika alone for long enough.” 

“Thank you again, Shuri.” Mika said, and the princess waved her off.

“Of course. I will see you two tomorrow.” she said, giving them a grin. Mika took Bucky by the hand, and with one last look at the princess, they left the lab. 

They could have taken a vehicle out to the little cottage built into the side of the hill, but Mika wanted to give Bucky some time to adjust, and to see the city. She knew the streets they needed to go now, and led him easily through. His eyes roamed over everything, trying to take in all the details at once of the city around him. It was quiet as they reached the farm to market road, the wide gravel path easy to follow as the sun started dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a brilliant mix of orange and pink and purple. Bucky looked over at Mika, who shone a warm gold in the diminishing sunlight, and thought he’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. 

The cottage, now filled with furniture and decorations that Shuri had enthusiastically picked out for them, instantly felt like home. But perhaps that was just because of who was there with him. Mika held his hand as she showed him the kitchen and living room, the training room and the guest room (“for when Captain Rogers comes to visit!” Shuri had exclaimed), finally ending with their new bedroom, the balcony overlooking the fields and the little dilapidated barn down below. He leaned against the railing, taking in the view of it all. Mika stood next to him, and he put his arm around her and tucked her into his side, pressing a kiss to her head. He hadn’t felt this right in a long time.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, rubbing his back in a comforting manner. He’d been through such an ordeal over the past couple weeks, but now he looked like an enormous weight had been lifted from him. 

“Good.” he said, meaning it. He could feel her heart beating against his side, strong and sure. He knew they’d have to have a conversation about the future, about what the plan was, but that could wait for tomorrow. Tonight, he just wanted to be with her. “Do you have my bag?” 

“The black one? Yes, it’s in here.” she said, peeling herself away and going inside. He followed her in, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as she went to the closet and retrieved his bag, bringing it back to him. She sat down next to him as he dug through it, bypassing the clothing and the weapons and instead pulling out that blasted red journal. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to think about what would happen if it went wrong, but he couldn’t come here and sleep beside her if he wasn’t sure it was safe. He thumbed through the journal to the page marked “activation,” taking a deep breath before handing it over to her.

“I need you to read that list.” he said, for once glad that she knew Russian. Her eyes flitted over the words, her brows pinched together as she tried to make sense of them. She looked over at the next page, and realized what she was holding.

“Bucky, what is this?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

“I trust the princess with my life, but I have to be sure. I have to know for a fact that you will never,  _ ever _ , meet the Winter Soldier again.” he said. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, hold her, sleep by her and live with her for the rest of his life. But he could not do that with that uncertainty lingering in the back of his mind. She nodded, understanding what he wanted, and why he wanted it. 

“And what happens if…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, to dare doubt all the work Shuri had done to help them. 

“I won’t hurt you. I’ll listen to you.” he assured her.  _ Ready to comply _ . She nodded ran her eyes over the words again, practicing them in her head before reading aloud.

“Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.” she read slowly, her voice soft. He waited for the tingle in the back of his head, the shots of pain to go through his brain. “Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.” Still nothing. No numbness, no heaviness, no feeling like he was descending into nothing. “Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car.”

Nothing. Still nothing. He felt a joy he didn’t ever remember feeling before, and a relief that could move mountains. “Bucky?” Mika asked softly. He looked at her, his heart burning at the look of concern on her face. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t afraid at all. 

He moved quickly them, pulling her to him and pressing his lips against hers. She hesitated for a half a beat before kissing him back, her hands running up his chest and into his hair. The loose bun the kids had tied it into fell away, letting her fingers tangle into it unhindered. Their kisses started as deep and hesitant, but they quickly became hot and feverish. He put his arm around her, tugging her until she moved so that she was straddling his lap. His hand traveled over her back, her leg, her hip, her ass, pulling her so she was flush against his chest as his lips moved from hers to her neck, eliciting a gasp and a tighter grip in his hair. 

“Do you want-” he meant to ask, make sure, but she interrupted him.

“I want everything you want.” she said, adjusting her position and slightly rolling her hips against his. He groaned at the contact, his face going skyward for a moment as he whispered,

“Oh thank God.” Mika took that moment to lay her lips against the scruff of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as she untied the shawl covering his arm. The first time they’d slept together, it had been amazing, but he’d had to take a breath at every step to make sure he wasn’t hurting her or overwhelming himself. He’d had to hold himself back. But this time, he didn’t have his fear weighing him down.

He slid his hand under her tunic as she unbuttoned his, both of them floundering as they tried to get the offending pieces of clothing off as quickly as possible. He had a mind to just rip hers, but figured that may be frowned upon later when she was one shirtdress short of her very limited wardrobe. He wasn’t sure if the Wakandans intended for her to wear the tunic as a dress, but he didn’t mind it. He didn’t mind it one bit. He pulled one side of her bra down, exposing just enough for his lips to find the most sensitive area and pay attention to it. He could feel her fingertips digging into his shoulders at the ministrations, her heart hammering against her ribs. After a moment, she pulled away with a groan, making him look at her in confusion.

“Alright?” he asked, afraid for the briefest moment that she had changed her mind. But the thought didn’t seize him like it usually did, and it passed as soon as he saw the look on her face. She was alright, she wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t.

“Oh yes.” she said, her hands going to his pants and unbuttoning them. Her bra still hung half off, and she didn’t care to fix it. He lightly reached for the clasp and flicked it open, allowing it to fall away. “I’ve just missed you, and I intend to show you exactly how much.” 

He let out a breath at the thought, and the sight in front of him. “You know, I had the same plan.” he replied, his voice low and raspy. He wanted to do all her favorite things until she was singing his name to the high heavens, but it seemed she wanted to go first. She moved off his lap, tugging at his waistband until he stood enough for her to drag the pants down. He didn’t mind being the first one naked, especially when she sat him back down and sank to her knees in front of him.

“Hm, great minds think alike.” she said, her hand going to him and making him take a sharp breath. He was not ashamed that his body was already responding to their activities; he didn’t mind her knowing how badly he wanted this. He’d been asleep, dreaming of her for what felt like years, and now he was finally with her again. She looked up at him through her lashes. “Is this something you want?”

It was very kind of her, really, to remember his hesitation before and to check in with him. The gesture made his heart burn with affection for her, and he put a hand to her cheek and leaned down to give her a gentle kiss. “Please.” he said, when he pulled back. What would this be like now, without his deep rooted concern about vulnerability?

She gave him a seductive smile. “As you wish.” she said, and without any further pause, took him into her mouth. He closed his eyes at the sensation, letting out a long breath and a low groan. She worked with her hands and her tongue, making his pulse race and his toes curl. His hand went to her hair, gently pushing it back so he could see her face. The vision gave him a visceral reaction, and he could feel her smirking around him; she knew  _ exactly _ what she was doing to him. She took in a little more of him, intensifying the feelings. He leaned back, reaching with an arm that wasn’t there anymore and ending up falling against the mattress. She laughed then, the vibrations of it making his back arch and him say, “Fuck, Mika.” 

She took that as encouragement, and made her movements a little faster.  _ Fuck _ this felt amazing. Incredibly amazing.  _ Too _ amazing. He let her go as long as possible, loving the way it felt, but knowing that it was about to come to an abrupt end if he didn’t stop. He sat up and pushed her away, trying to get control of his breathing as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. He took her hand and pulled her up to him, kissing her neck and her cheeks before finally landing on her lips for a long, deep kiss. 

“I love you.” he murmured against her skin, and she kissed him again before saying,

“I love you too.” His arm went around her waist, and she giggled as he picked her up and tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed. She laid on her back, her arms stretched over her head as she watched him turn and walk on his knees towards her. She spread her legs, and he moved between them before putting his hand down next to her head and going to kiss at her neck again. She hummed, her thighs rubbing against his waist as she fidgeted. He listened to her silent requests, his kisses moving down to her chest, then her stomach, then her thighs. It was a little harder to pull off her underwear with one hand, but he made it work before returning to his original position. He looked up to ask her for consent, but she didn’t give him the chance, her hand going to his hair and directing his head exactly where she wanted it. He obliged, putting his lips to her and immediately running his tongue over the spot she would appreciate most.

“Oh my God.” she said, her voice muffled by a hand over her mouth. Her legs twitched with every motion his tongue made, the hand that wasn’t covering her mouth clutching the sheets. He thought she tasted amazing before, but now...now she was a goddamn delicacy. And he wanted her to know that.

“Let me hear you.” he said, and she could barely whine at his stopping before he started again. This time, she let out a louder moan, remembering how he said he wouldn’t mind certain noises. The first time he’d done this, she thought this was it, the best time of her life. But clearly, his aim was to outdo himself, and he was definitely succeeding. 

“God, Bucky, yes!” she exclaimed, though she didn’t know if he could hear her since she was squeezing his head with her legs. She relaxed them down, her abs immediately tensing instead at the things he was doing. If he wanted to hear her, then by God he would hear her. “Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop-!” 

He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. He changed his angle ever so slightly, eliciting a loud gasp and an even louder, “Fuck!” He took this to be a good sign, and stayed in that spot, holding her hip and working his tongue until her breath was ragged and her hand was tight in his hair. 

“I’m close, I’m so close,” she gasped out, hoping that he would keep going - which, of course, he did. He didn’t stop until she was moaning his name and arching off the bed, every muscle of her body tensing as she reached her peak. And he didn’t stop when she collapsed against the bed, keeping up until she was tensing again and falling silent, his name barely hanging on her lips. He then gave her a reprieve, crawling up her body to give her a sound kiss. 

“I missed that.” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks. “Told you I missed you.”

“Me too.” she agreed, still sounding wrecked. She bent her legs up, rubbing against his. “But I wouldn’t mind a little more.”

“Something else we have in common.” he said, laying flush against her. He didn’t have the reservations he did before; he wanted this, he knew she wanted this, and he knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. Bruises were just bruises. He slowly pushed into her, and she let out a low noise of pleasure as he did so. His arm was underneath her, propping him up just enough so he could start a steady rhythm. His face was buried in her neck, her name and a plethora of curses tumbling from his lips and into her hair. She was holding onto him tightly with legs and hands and every other part of her body, revelling in the feeling of holding him close again. She knew she’d missed him terribly, but wasn’t aware until just now exactly how much. 

“I’m not...I won’t last much longer.” he admitted, though unwilling to alter his pace. His mind was whirring, trying to figure out how he could maintain his leverage and slip his one hand between them to further her along. It was as if she read his mind; she didn’t care right now about herself, she only wanted him to feel as good as she had moments before. She clutched him closer to her, murmuring encouragement into his ear that made him moan and his rhythm stutter as he fell off the edge, his hand dropping to her hip to hold onto her as he finished. 

He laid there as the dust settled, allowing his full weight to rest on her as they both tried to catch their breath. It seemed so right, to be lying here with her like this. He knew he loved her before, knew he wanted to be with her forever, but now it actually seemed attainable. Now, he wasn’t having to hold a piece of himself back, and didn’t feel like he was constantly playing the defense with his own mind. He could just breathe again, and live. With Mika.

Bucky rolled off of her, and she let out a contented sigh, laying with her legs splayed for a few moments before getting up to go to the restroom. He remembered the first night they’d spent together like this; he’d felt the need to get dressed, and his training had told him to evacuate. But tonight, he just put his hand behind his head and waited for her to return. She did a few minutes later, still wearing nothing but a smile as she laid with her head on his shoulder and intertwined their legs. 

“Alright?” she asked. He put his arm around her, squeezing her to him and kissing the top of her head. 

“Fucking brilliant.” he replied, making her laugh and hug him tighter. Used to, he was always unusually warm. And while he still ran a little warmer than her, now that his body wasn’t perpetually fighting the infection in his arm, he was a little closer to normal. 

“Me too.” she said, pressing a kiss to his chest. She reached up, running her fingers over the scars of his shoulder. “You lied to me.”

“Oh? When was that?” he asked, though he an inkling to what she was referring. 

“I asked you once if your shoulder hurt.” she reminded him, her fingers still massaging the scars. “And you told me no.”

“If I remember correctly, I said ‘not really.’ It’s all relative.” he said, tracing little circles on her shoulder. He could feel the scathing look she was sending towards him, but when he looked down at her, her gaze softened.

“Does it hurt now?” she asked. He paused for a moment, taking inventory of his body.

“Not one bit.” he replied. For once, nothing hurt, not his mind, nor his body, nor his soul. Everything felt  _ good _ . 

And here, with Mika under his arm and the warm breeze blowing through the open balcony door, everything felt right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank y'all so much for reading! i probs won't be able to update next weekend cause i'm taking a huge professional exam, but i'll hopefully be back in two weeks! please let me know what you thought of this chapter!


	52. Rest Now

Bucky thought, after no less than two more rounds of love making and murmuring to each other well into the night, that he would at last be able to rest.

And yet, he found himself wide awake, staring up at the ceiling and watching the blades of the fan lazily spin. Mika was sprawled out on her stomach next to him, her bare back illuminated with the moonlight, just bright enough that he could see her ribs rise and fall as she breathed slow and deep. Unlike him, she was completely worn out. He carefully slid out from under the covers, trying not to wake her even though she seemed to be sleeping like the dead. The door to the balcony was quiet as he slid it open, and he left it ajar as he stepped out into the calm night air. The heat no longer felt stifling, now that his body wasn’t constantly feverish from battling a raging infection, and he found he actually enjoyed the warmth. He leaned his elbows on the railing, looking down over the fields downhill from the home. And it felt like a home, despite being in a country he’d never heard of on a continent he’d never been to. 

The gentle breeze wrapped around him, tickling his bare chest and the new skin of his shoulder. He couldn’t remember the last time that skin had felt anything besides pain; in fact, he hadn’t really realized how much pain he was in until it was all taken away. This was the first moment he had to himself, giving him time to actually reflect on everything that had happened over the past few...days? Weeks? How long had he been asleep in that hut exactly? That was probably why he wasn’t able to sleep now, besides the uncertainty of the future and the unfamiliar territory; he’d been sleeping for a while now. 

But despite the ambivalence of the situation and the complete change of scenery, he found he wasn’t nervous. He figured, no matter what else came, it couldn’t be worse than what he’d already been through. Wakanda was safe, he knew that. Steve wouldn’t have brought him here if that weren’t the case. He looked back at the farm land in front of him, deciding that this is what he wanted. He just wanted a quiet life, free from the fighting and the death and everything that came along with it. He thought of the Princess, offering him a new arm, and absent mindedly reached up and rubbed the smooth skin of his shoulder. He felt lighter without the prosthetic, like he was finally and wholly himself again. Would she be offended, he wondered, if he wanted to try living his life without it? 

There was a rustling behind him, and he looked to see Mika reaching out to the empty sheets. She was still mostly asleep, but her brows were pinching together in confusion after her hand didn’t find him. He took one last look at the countryside before going back in, closing the door behind him and getting back into bed. Her face relaxed when she finally found him again, her body going still as she sank back into a deep sleep. He pulled her close, and she moved her head from her pillow to his chest, her limbs resting limply across him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her in this profound of a sleep; it made his heart swell, seeing how relaxed and safe she felt with him. And for once, he didn’t feel like a danger to her. Finally, he was able to fall asleep. 

The sun was already halfway past the horizon when he woke again. When was the last time he slept in past dawn? It felt amazing. Next to him, Mika was still asleep, now on her back with her arms stretched overhead, the comforter piled around her waist and one long leg reaching out from underneath it. That view was also amazing. He was considering waking her up in a particularly saucy way when his stomach cramped and grumbled; he was awake most of the night, why had he not thought to eat anything? He pulled himself from the bed a second time, this time moving much slower and taking a moment to stretch his muscles. He didn’t go to the balcony this time, instead going into the kitchen to see if he could figure out how to make some coffee and breakfast. 

The coffee machine and stove were intuitive enough, but he didn’t realize how much he used two hands with cooking until he only had the one. He had to be extra careful when stirring the oatmeal, since he could no longer stabilize the pan while he did so. He thought to use his stomach to keep it in place, but a nice angry burn told him that was one of his dumber ideas. The end result was a few stuck and burned oats at the bottom of the pan, but overall two decently sized bowls of food. 

Chopping fruit with one hand was no problem, as his knife skills were strong enough and fast enough to make it happen without too many casualties rolling off the cutting board and onto the floor. He piled it on, and thought he was going to have to go wake his girl up when she finally strolled out of their room, her hair a mess and a large tunic swallowing her frame. She came over to him with a grin, her arms sliding around his waist as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“Smells good in here.” she commented, laughing as he pulled her in for another good morning kiss. 

“Breakfast is ready.” he replied, nodding his hand at the steaming mugs and full bowls. She sucked in a sharp breath, and he wondered how she’d been faring cooking on her own without him.

“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” she said, kissing his cheek before taking a sip of coffee, her eyes closing for a moment as the warmth hit her. He shook his head at her theatrics, but couldn’t help but smile. God he’d missed her. She took both of their mugs in one hand and grabbed one bowl with the other, gesturing for him to follow her. “Let’s sit on the porch. It’s lovely in the morning.” 

“Sounds good to me.” he said, thinking that any morning was lovely if he got to sit and be with her. She wasn’t wrong though; with the sun rising behind the house, the porch was shaded, keeping them cool while the light painted the scenery orange in front of them. There was no chairs yet, but they could sit on the front step and lean against the railings while they ate breakfast, watching the colors of the leaves and grass change as the sun rose all the way. 

“How are you feeling this morning? Were you able to sleep?” she asked quietly after a while, her bowl blissfully empty and her mug still blissfully full. He gave a short huff of a laugh, taking a sip from his own cup.

“Not really.” he said. She immediately looked concern, so he continued, “Just wasn’t tired.”

“How?!” she asked incredulously, her eyes wide. He laughed at the surprise and vague offense in her expression, his shoulders shaking. “Seriously! I haven’t - we - Bucky, I was at  _ university _ last time I went three times in a night! How were you not exhausted?”

“Guess this old man’s just in better shape than you.” he said, still chuckling at her outrage. “We’ll just have to...exercise more often.”

“Oh really?” she asked, perking an eyebrow and poking him with her toe. “Any specific workouts you had in mind?”

“Well you know, you’re supposed to target it to your specific activity goals.” he replied with a smirk, putting his mug down so he could grab her leg and pull her close, sealing his flirting with a kiss. She kissed him back eagerly, her arms going around his neck to pull herself closer. Things were just starting to get interesting when Bucky stopped, pulling back and listening hard. Mika held her breath, the question hanging on her lips. They were supposed to be safe here, what could make him stop like that?

A few moments later, Mika could hear it too: the sound of someone running along the path close to the home. Multiple someones. But the footsteps seemed a little too light and fast to be soldiers or spies, and Bucky’s posture relaxed. Soon, three children came sprinting around the corner, letting out cries of happiness as they spotted them. Bucky let them tackle him onto the porch, a grin on his face as all of them started talking to him at once. She had no idea who these kids were or where they came from, but clearly they all knew each other. 

“Did you get adopted while you were healing?” she asked, unable to keep the laughter down. The kids were messing with his beard and his tunic and his hair, and at the sound of her voice they stopped and looked at her with the same large, blinking eyes. They’d been so excited to find him, her presence had escaped them. 

“White Wolf, who is that?” one kid asked, half hiding behind Bucky. He smiled, leaning back ever so slightly so he could stage whisper,

“That is my Little Bird.” All three of them gasped appreciatively, though only the little girl had enough bravery to bound over to her.

“She’s so pretty!” she exclaimed, her high voice and her accent making her even more adorable than she was on looks alone. She checked her back, her tiny eyebrows furrowing. “Where are your wings?”

“I haven’t put them on yet. You can’t fly for an hour after you eat.” she explained, and the girl nodded sagely, her hands running over Mika’s messy hair, trying to smooth it. “Why do you call him White Wolf?”

“Look at his skin!” the youngest of the three, situated in Bucky’s lap, said with a mischievous giggle and a pinch of his arm. 

“And when he dreams, he howls!” The oldest added, letting loose a loud  _ awoo _ to accentuate his point. Both Mika and Bucky’s smiles faltered as they realized what they meant; they thought he was howling like a wolf, but they both knew that he’d been screaming in his sleep as he was forced to relive all his memories while his mind reorganized. 

“And if you’re not careful, I bite.” he said, trying to diffuse the tension they felt before the kids picked up on it. He gave a pretend growl and snapped his teeth at the little kid sitting on him, the boy shrieking and giggling as he did so. 

“It’s true.” Mika said with a smirk, her tone laced with an implication that the children didn’t notice. She sat still as the little girl stepped behind her, trying to carefully detangle her hair while really just making Mika happy that she was not tender headed.

“So soft.” the little girl said to herself before starting to sing a song Mika didn’t know. She could pick out a word here and there in the limited Wakandan that she’d learned over the past few weeks, but overall it was lost on her. 

“Did you all track me down all the way from your village?” Bucky asked. The question seemed innocent enough, but Mika could see the layers of it; the kids may be spies, they just didn’t know it. Or perhaps the area wasn’t as secure as they thought it was. But the smallest grinned, readjusting his seat.

“No! Princess Shuri told us.” he said, unable to keep the secret at all.

“We wanted to make sure you were better.” the little girl said from where she was painstakingly twisting Mika’s hair into a clumsy braid with her small hands. Bucky gave them a small smile, and Mika had to blink away a few tears that wanted to spring loose at their confession. 

“Well, thank you for checking on me. I’m all better.” he said quietly, and Mika saw the expression he used to wear every time he realized that she cared about him. He was still getting used to people looking out for him, and wanting to help him and love him. But he’d see it eventually. “Now, you all should probably run home. We have to go meet the Princess.” 

“No!” the oldest said, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck while the youngest squeezed his middle. The girl left Mika, holding onto his other side.

“We don’t want to go!” the youngest added, his cries muffled from his face being buried in Bucky’s chest. 

“And I wish you could stay,” Bucky said quietly, and the sentiment sounded genuine. “But I don’t think the Princess would like to be kept waiting.”

“Okay. But can we come back tomorrow?” the youngest asked, looking up at him from his position. They all seemed to hold their breath as they waited for him to answer.

“Of course.” he said, and all the kids visibly relaxed at his agreement. “Now go on, head home.”

The kids chorused their goodbyes before crawling off of him, running back towards the path. At the last moment, the girl turned and came back, throwing herself onto Bucky for one last hug.

“We’re happy you’re better.” she said. Bucky looked like he was choking down a bit of emotion, and laid his head against hers for a moment before patting her back.

“Me too.” he said. Her companions called to her then, and the girl let go and ran down the path, straining to catch up before the boys left her behind. They were silent for a minute, Mika grinning at Bucky, before he sighed and pulled himself to his feet. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” she said, taking his outstretched hand and standing next to him. She gathered their dishes, following him inside to the kitchen. “Didn’t realize you went and adopted a few kids in your absence.”

He shrugged, and she knew immediately he was faking being nonchalant. “Those kids seemed to pop in every time I was awake. Gave me food, water, talked to me, all that. Had no idea who they were - hell, had no idea who  _ I _ was - but they were always there.” He was figuring out how to wash the pan with his one arm, giving him an excuse not to look at her. She idly noticed that they’d twisted his hair into the same half-bun that it had been in the previous day.

“Well you were great with them. Were you around kids a lot when you were younger?” she asked idly, hopping up to sit on the counter next to the sink. He looked up at her then, perking an eyebrow.

“You trying to figure out if I have a middle aged son or daughter running around somewhere?” he asked, a smirk on his face. She blinked a couple of times, his words sinking in.

“Honestly, the thought never occurred to me. Do you?” she asked, making him chuckle as he handed her the pan to dry.

“No.” he said before pausing, thinking for a moment. When was the last time he slept with a woman? Was there enough time before he was shipped out for her to let her know if something happened? He did the math quickly.  “...No, there’s not.” he said, a little more certain the second time.

“Uh huh.” she said, not completely trusting his answer. “Do you want kids?” She hadn’t meant to have such a serious conversation first thing in the morning, but the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Bucky paused, but not because he was afraid of it. He was genuinely considering his answer before giving it to her.

“Maybe. Someday.” he said, his brows still pinched together in thought. He knew, when he was a much younger man, he’d planned to find himself a wife and have a large family. But then he’d gone to war, and didn’t come back, and hadn’t really thought of it since. That is, until he met Mika. He wanted, very much, to spend the rest of his life with her. But he also knew that it was much too early in their relationship to express such sentiments. “Do you?”

“Maybe. Someday.” she agreed with a shrug. Children were always a ‘what if’ to her. What if she found the right person, what if they were stable enough, what if she wasn’t too old or tired. But it wasn’t hard to imagine seeing Bucky with a baby on his lap, drinking his coffee and speaking to it in eight different languages. “For the record, I think you would make a wonderful father.” She didn’t know if he needed to hear the statement, but judging by the look on his face, it didn’t hurt.

“You do?” he asked, thoroughly surprised. It was definitely something he wondered, given the current topic of conversation. His heart burned at her words, and she nodded emphatically.

“Absolutely.” she said, reaching out to take his hand and pull him to her. He stood between her knees, his forehead resting against hers. His insides froze as he considered the possibilities.

“I...there’s something I must confess.” he whispered. “Something you should know.”

“You have  _ multiple _ middle aged children running around?” she said lowly, the laughter dying on her lips at the serious look on his face. He licked his lips, his eyes dropping for a moment before returning to hers.

“With everything they did to me, all they put me through…” He could feel his blood turning to cement, his whole body buzzing with discomfort. He hated,  _ hated _ , that he had to tell her this, had to once again think about the torture that Hydra had done. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice a little stronger. “I’m not entirely sure children are a possibility.”

She was quiet for a long moment, trying to decide exactly how to respond. Faced with the possible inability to have a family, she suddenly desperately wanted one. But she knew that moment would pass, and she knew there were other things to prioritize. “We’ll cross that bridge if or when we come to it. What’s important right now is you and me.” She leaned in and kissed him softly, her hands on his cheeks as she tried to show all her emotion with it. His hand gripped her thigh as he kissed her back before pulling away reluctantly.

“And going to see Shuri.” he said, making her groan. 

“Maybe we can go see her tomorrow.” Mika offered, and Bucky gave her a look.

“You know if we don’t show up at the lab, she’s just going to show up here. We’ll be interrupted either way.” he said, making her whine childishly as he tugged her off the counter. She knew he was right, she just didn’t want to admit it. The last time they’d been in their happy little bubble, it had been rudely burst, and now they were back in safety and she wanted to take full advantage of it. But she figured she could wait a few more hours. Maybe.

They rinsed off the night before and dressed, deciding this time to take the little vehicle that Shuri was letting them borrow for the time being. The palace was bustling with activity this morning, now that everything was under control after the brief upheaval with Killmonger. Mika greeted the few people she knew as she passed them, her hand clutching Bucky’s as they made their way up to the lab, dodging palace servants and runners and scientists as they moved throughout the space.

“Finally!” Shuri cried, spotting them before they spotted her. Her braids were arranged into two thick plaits down her back, the ends swinging precariously and nearly whipping passerbys as she strode across the lab. “I thought you two had gotten lost. Or been detained.”

“We were attacked by a rogue band of Wakandans this morning.” Mika said. Shuri looked confused, and then alarmed.

“They were all under the age of eight.” Bucky explained, since Mika was currently trying to hold in her giggles. Shuri rolled her eyes then, smacking her on the back of her hand.

“Don’t do that! I’m very sensitive.” she said, making Mika laugh more.

“You’re fine. Now come on, we don’t want to pull you away from your work for too long.” she said, putting her arm around the younger girl and following her to the back of the lab. There, on the table, laid a beautiful metal arm. It wasn’t the bright, gaudy silver from his previous prosthetic, and there was no bastardized star on the shoulder. There was a dull glow between the plates, and he had the distinct impression that they would not click and grind as he moved them. It was a spectacular piece of machinery. But for some reason, he was hesitant.

“Sit here. We’ll have you up and fighting in no time.” Shuri directed, pointing him to a chair next to the table. She tapped a few things on her tablet before holding up her bracelet, one bead scanning the side of his shoulder. A few more taps on the tablet, and the arm started to glow. “So? Do you like your new house?”

“It’s amazing, Princess. I - we can’t thank you enough.” he said, gazing at her seriously even though she casually waved him off. 

“Of course. I’m glad you like it.” she said with a smile, though it was clear her mind was on the task in front of her. Her fingers flew over the screen for a few moments longer before she set the tablet down and picked up the arm. Bucky paused before moving the covering draped over his shoulder, exposing the smooth amputation site. Shuri held the arm up next to it, red lights reaching out and scanning his shoulder like a bunch of sniper sights, looking for the nerves. They stopped one by one as they found what they were looking for, trained on their targets, and once they were all still Shuri slipped the arm over his shoulder and chest, the prosthetic making a quiet whirring noise as it fitted itself to his body. He got a blink of pain as the nerves reconnected, but after that, it was fine. The new prosthetic felt warm and responded to his every thought; he didn’t feel like he was fighting it every time he tried to move it. He flexed the fingers and bent the elbow, testing its sensitivity. It didn’t feel completely normal - he didn’t think anything short of regrowing his arm would do that - but it certainly better than the prosthesis he had before.

“Shit.” Mika swore in Romanian, hiding her bad language from the princess. Her eyes were wide as she took in his movements, and he realized that the ease of using it wasn’t obvious just to him. He reached up, gently stroking her cheek with the thumb. Her eyes somehow got even wider as she leaned into it, exclaiming, “It’s warm!”

“Well yes, wasn’t the other one?” Shuri asked, and both of them shook their heads.

“No, it was always cold.” Mika said. Bucky moved his hand away, his brows furrowing as he gripped it strongly, testing the force he could make. It was even more powerful than his previous arm, but instead of assuaging him, it scared him a little bit. Despite the ease of use, it reminded him just a little too much of what he had previously.

“Princess, could we borrow you for a moment?” an attendant requested, stepping up to them and clasping his hands in front of him. Shuri let out a breath, composing herself before nodding.

“Of course. Be right back.” she said, getting up and following the man away. Mika turned back to Bucky, resting her chin on her hand, her elbow propped on her knee.

“What do you think?” she asked, nodding at the new arm. He swallowed, taking a moment to compose his response. Surely Mika wouldn’t judge him, right? She would just be honest? 

“Would it be ungrateful of me if I wanted to just...try and live without it?” he asked quietly. He knew he could never repay Shuri and T’Challa for everything they’d given him, but even if the arm was new and different, it still served as a reminder to him. He could still feel the weight of it hanging, different from the right side, and tethering him to the past. “It just still feels kind of like before. Just without the pain.”

Mika was silent for a moment, trying to decipher everything he wasn’t saying. “Feels too familiar?” she asked, trying to clarify. He nodded. 

“Feels like I’m always waiting for combat.” he said. The more he moved the arm, the more he could feel the strength running through it. Shuri had made sure to give him not just an arm, but a weapon. And he was quickly growing tired of weapons.

“I don’t think that would make you ungrateful at all.” she murmured, reaching up and smoothing his hair away from his face. Even as he talked to her, the left arm hung down by his left side, as if he were refusing to acknowledge it. “Are you sure you can do everything you want with just one arm?”

He thought for a moment. “Well, cooking was a bit of a challenge, but I managed.” he said, thinking back to that morning. He might have to change his strategies a bit to make everything work, but it was definitely manageable. “I can still lift most things, take care of myself...take you to bed.”

“Well we certainly know that.” she said with a grin. He’d proved that readily and easily the night before. 

“Would you still feel safe?” he asked. He knew his own abilities, knew exactly what he could accomplish, but that wouldn’t matter if she felt like they would be at a disadvantage. “Do you still feel like I could protect you?”

She laughed, covering up the fact that the question made her want to cry. “Bucky, you could have no arms and no legs and one eye, and I’d still trust you to protect me.” she said emphatically. He reached up then, pulling her in for a quick kiss before sitting back against the chair. “I think Shuri will understand.”

“Will understand what?” the Princess asked, coming around the corner. She stopped as she saw the looks on their faces, caught before they were completely ready to see her again. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is something wrong with the arm?” she asked, eyeing the prosthetic and noticing how it was limp next to him. Bucky sat up a little straighter, making it move.

“No, no, Princess, it’s wonderful, it’s perfect.” he said. Now looking at her in the eye, he couldn’t bring himself to speak his thoughts. 

“But?” she asked, coming to sit next to them. He hesitated and looked to Mika, who gave him an encouraging look. Shuri crossed her legs, looking at him imploringly. If there was something that needed to be improved, she wanted to know.

“I…” he stopped and cleared his throat. He was hoping to have a few more minutes to formulate his request. “I am forever indebted to you. And this arm is beyond anything I could ask for, and more than I deserve. But…” he wavered for a moment again, her big brown eyes making him feel guilty. “I think I may need some time to just be myself again. I hope you can forgive me of that.” 

Shuri’s eyes filled with tears. “There’s nothing to forgive. I’m so sorry, I was so focused on making it, I didn’t even think-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Mika said, getting up and pulling Shuri into a hug, her head at her abdomen. “You have been the smartest, most wonderful, most amazing thing to ever happen to us. And we are so, so thankful.” She let go, and Shuri’s eyes were dry again.

“And Princess,” Bucky got her attention again, a very serious look on her face. “if you need anything, and I mean  _ anything _ , you call on me, okay?” Most people would give stipulations with such a claim, but he had none. He could easily and guiltlessly kill for this girl. 

“I will hold you to that.” she said, her hands going to his shoulder as she released the arm from him, returning it to its home in the box. “And I have my first request right now.”

“Name it.” he said, with no uncertainty. She closed the lid on the arm, and another attendant in white came and took it away for storage. She smiled, and patted his leg.

“I want you to go home and enjoy your life.” she said, giving him a smile. She had seen bits and glimpses of his memories in the hours she spent clearing his mind from Hydra, and had assumed he would miss the prosthesis. But she’d been incorrect, and if he wanted a break from a fight, he would get it. “It’s finally time for you to rest.”

“Thank you, Princess.” he said, heaving a huge sigh of relief. She stood, and he followed her example, accepting her request for an embrace. Every time he thought that this was it, life couldn’t get any better, Shuri had to go ahead and prove him wrong. She hugged Mika goodbye before sending them on their way, making sure to mention that Mika still had some unfinished projects to work on whenever she was ready. Mika smiled and agreed, but definitely made sure to say that she would be taking a few days off. 

With that, she took his one hand in hers, and they made their way back home.


	53. Different Definitions of Home

Steve thought he’d have a little more trouble, ethically, moving into a role as a rogue soldier.

Turns out, it was pretty easy to find the fight and help the little guy.  _ I don’t like bullies _ , he’d said once. It was as true now as it was then. He’d lived, died, and lived again, brought back into a world that made no sense to him and often lost sight of the bigger picture. So what was a soldier to do, when he was acting outside the law? Vigilante seemed like a good enough step. He didn’t mean for Sam to follow him into the fray, but he was there every step of the way, just like Bucky had been back in World War II. Steve wouldn’t be opposed to having Buck back, maybe revive the old Howling Commandos, but he knew his friend deserved a rest after all the shit he’d dealt with the past seventy years. And, if he was honest with himself, it helped him sleep a little better at night knowing that Bucky was safe in his own little corner of the world. One less thing for him to worry about. 

It had been over a month since he initially left Wakanda; in that time, they’d seen Greece, Turkey, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. He could keep going, but he could tell by the look on Sam’s face that he needed a break. And Steve meant to take one, he really did, until he heard about a situation just north of them, in Georgia. A quick stop, he said. One last mission, he said. “Bullshit.” Sam said, but he went along anyways.

It was just Sam’s luck that after they finished cleaning up their mess in Georgia, one of his phones rang in his pocket. At first he thought it was Tony, reaching out after their fight. But this was the other phone, the one given to him by T’Challa so they could stay in contact. It wasn’t T’Challa calling though, or even the princess. A different number was on the screen, one that he didn’t recognize. Then again, very few people had this number, namely the king, the princess, and Mika’s sister Nicoletta - he liked to keep her updated, and also give her a lifeline in case of emergencies. After the situation with her sister, she’d had to deal with a lot of official people coming to her house to question her, and often reached out to them for support. The phone was also in case she wanted to chat, which happened more often than he thought it would.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice low and authoritative, making him sound worthy of the Captain title. A low chuckle sounded in response.

“Damn. Phones sure have changed since we last spoke on one, huh?” Bucky’s voice came, a slight Brooklyn accent coloring his tone. Steve laughed, sitting down on a chair in the aircraft and waving off a curious look from Sam. His bones and muscles ached from the fight, but he knew that would change.

“Well maybe if you called once in a while, it wouldn’t surprise you.” he responded. Sam seemed to understand the jab and connect the dots, turning away to go rinse off the day. Steve leaned against the back of the chair and stretched one sore leg out, biting back a groan at the motion.

“Well, I’m busy. Kid was born this morning, so I’ve been dealing with that mess.” he said nonchalantly, making Steve sit up a little straighter.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, thinking that Bucky was much too calm talking about the birth of a child. Since when was Mika even pregnant? If she had been a month ago, when he’d last seen her - no, the math didn’t add up. The baby would have been premature, like he was before the serum, and even with all the medical advances, there would still be so many problems-

“A goat kind of kid, not the human kind.” Bucky said with a laugh, clearly satisfied with his accidental joke. Steve let out a sigh of relief, collapsing back into his relaxed position. 

“Son of a bitch.” he muttered to himself, but of course the phone’s clarity and Bucky’s super hearing didn’t let the comment slide. 

“Son of a goat, actually.” he said, and Steve didn’t bite the groan back this time as he rolled his eyes.

“I remember you being funnier back in 1943.” he said, though if he was honest, he was amused by the jokes and it made him happy to hear Bucky closer to how he used to be.

“The bar was a lot lower then.” he replied. “But listen, I didn’t call to make fun of you. Or to tell you about my new goat.”

“Shocking.” Steve deadpanned, even though he knew Bucky was never one for idle chatter, even before everything that had happened to him with Hydra.

“I actually have a favor to ask. Well, two, maybe.” he said, sounding just the fairest bit of confused, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not one request was an actual favor or something else entirely. Steve’s intrigue was piqued.

“Go on.” he said, perking an eyebrow even though Bucky couldn’t see it. 

“Mika is insisting that we have a housewarming party this weekend.” he started by way of explanation. He said the girl’s name softly, his voice betraying his feelings for her, but it also betrayed his annoyance at the situation by the end of his statement. “And she would like you and Sam to come.”

“You don’t want us to?” Steve asked, unable to hold back the dig at his choice of words. Neither one of them were the same men they were back in the day, but it still felt good to have his best friend back.

“I’m just the messenger, you know that. I wasn’t even allowed to pick the menu, even though I’ll be cooking it.” Bucky said, once again sounding a little salty.

“Women.” Steve said, shaking his head. “But I think we can manage to swing by. And the second favor?”

“How close are you to Germany?” he asked, and Steve reckoned he knew where he was going with this.

“Closer than you, for sure.” he said, though even that was debatable at this point. “Why? Need us to make a pit stop on the way back?”

“I was hoping to surprise Mika with Nicoletta.” he explained, and Steve couldn’t help but grin. Sure, maybe Bucky wasn’t as loud or rambunctious or flirtatious as he used to be, but the core of him was definitely still there. “I think she’s a little more homesick than she cares to let on.”

“I think we can swing by there.” he said, not willing to admit that they’d managed to already  _ swing by there _ a time or two since they left. “Does she know we’re coming?” 

“Oh yea. She’s already asked off work for a few days.” Bucky said. Of course things were planned and thought out; Steve would have done the same thing. Even for the simple things, they couldn’t turn their minds off from Army mode.

“One last follow up. How in the hell have you hidden this from Mika?” he asked curiously. Nicoletta wasn’t exactly one for secrets, especially when it came to her sister. Or perhaps he’d simply underestimated her. 

“Short conversations and ample distractions.” he said, making Steve laugh. 

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know.” he replied, though Bucky was not offering any more clarification than that. “But yea, we’ll head that way tomorrow or the next day, then come in to Wakanda for this weekend. I’ll call T’Challa and ask if there’s a couch we can crash on.”

“No need, we have guest rooms.” Bucky said, and even if he tried to keep his voice even, there was the slightest bit of happiness with it, a glimmer of the Old Bucky. “Like real, fancy-as-shit adults.” 

“Better than me, I think I’m technically homeless.” Steve laughed. He was glad, after all his pain, that his friend could finally settle. “Alright, pal, I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Don’t do anything stupid between now and then.” Bucky advised, and Steve’s heart ached a little as he thought of days gone by.

“How can I? You’ve got all the stupid there with you. With your kids.” he chided, pretending that his throat wasn’t a little tight. After all the messed up shit he’d dealt with since coming out of the ice, it made him emotional to have a little piece of his past with him.

“Hey, you can insult me, but leave the goats out of it.” Bucky said. Steve apologized, though he didn’t really mean it, and they said their goodbyes just as Sam was strolling out of the tiny bathroom, gingerly toweling off the cuts and bruises that weren’t hidden by his shorts.

“Another mission?” he asked, sounding tired. Steve shook his head.

“A party.” he replied with a grin, making Sam’s eyebrows raise as his shoulders relaxed. “Buck and Mika want us to stop in this weekend, and want us to pick up Nicoletta on the way there.”

“Oh thank God.” Sam said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “If I had to listen to someone else yell at me in a language I don’t understand-”

“Exactly. Now Mika can just yell at you in English. And possibly Romanian.” he said. Sam glared at him, delicately pulling on a tshirt once he was satisfied in the state of his wounds.

“I’ve done nothing that would lead her to yell at me. Nicky and I are just friends.” he said pointedly, letting out a low sigh as he tried not to straight up collapse on one of the so-called beds. They were really more like cots, and both men wondered if they were going to be able to get out of them in the morning. “If anything, she’s gonna end up yelling at  _ you _ .” 

“What? No.” Steve said, deflecting. He leaned down to pull off his boots so that he didn’t have to meet Sam’s eyes.

“Uh huh. Don’t play that. I know who you’re up texting all night.” he said, attitude lacing his voice. Steve held his hands up in innocence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he said, getting up and pulling his uniform jacket off. The tshirt underneath was soaked in sweat and blood, most of the former his while the latter came from their enemies. Even so, he could feel it leaving streaks over his skin as he pulled it off. Gross. 

“Keep playing dumb. See how that turns out for you.” he replied, laying down on the rickety cot, its squeaking springs drowning out any sounds of pain that he might have let out. 

“I’m a lot of things, but dumb is not one of them.” he said, trying to make it sound like there was nothing going on, but really meaning that he wasn’t dumb enough to try and start something with anyone after all the shit they’d been through over the past six weeks. He especially wouldn’t be trying anything with someone that Sam flirted with any chance he got, the risk even greater since that happened to be Mika’s sister. So he showered off the day, tended to his injuries, and went to sleep, leaving two text messages on his phone unread. 

They were able to make it out of Georgia the next afternoon, and Steve had Sam get in touch with Nicoletta as they flew towards German airspace. Their conversation was short - shorter than he thought it would be - as he gave the basic details of when they would arrive. The Wakandan aircraft was high tech enough for them to land in her backyard without hurting the landscape, which would make traveling much, much easier. And while it had been over two weeks since anyone had come to bother Nicoletta about her sister or The Man She Was With, Steve couldn’t help but run the recon counter measures on the craft to check for any other people before they touched down to the ground as the sun touched down to the horizon. 

“There you two are!” Nicoletta said, skipping down the steps of her back porch, her bare feet hidden in the grass as she came out to meet them. It was chilly out, but she seemed to relish in it. “I do not like this habit of being late.”

“Sorry, Nicky.” Sam said, accepting her hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“It won’t happen again.” Steve added as she moved on to giving him the same welcome. She sighed dramatically, hooking her arm around his elbow and leading them inside. Out of habit, he bent his elbow so that his hand was to his chest, the proper form for escorting a lady, at least that’s what his mother had told him. The little squeeze on his bicep, however, seemed to tell him something else.

“You keep saying that, and yet I don’t believe it.” she said, her English thickly accented, though the accent was different than her sister’s. He wondered who they’d each learned the other languages from, and if that influenced it. He knew his German wasn’t perfect, and his accent was often a point of ridicule, but he could at least get the point across. 

“It’s all his fault!” Sam said, gesturing at Steve as they stepped into the warm house. “Man can’t keep focused in his old age.” 

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to stop for snacks.” Steve countered. Something smelled amazing, though he had no idea what the food actually was. It was always an adventure, coming to eat at Nicoletta’s house.

“I don’t remember you complaining. What was it you said? Oh, right, ‘we should stop at that bakery, I bet Nicky would like one of those cakes.’ Don’t test me.” Sam rebutted, giving him a serious look. Steve shot him a glare - why in the hell was he on about this today? - but the other man ignored him.

“You brought me a cake?” Nicoletta asked, and Steve was glad that she chose to focus on that part of the conversation. He chanced a look at her to find her gazing up at him with those big brown eyes, and he cleared his throat for a second before saying,

“Of course. Payment for giving us a roof over our heads tonight.” He popped open his pocket, pulling out the little slice of chocolate cake that he’d bought for her that morning. She looked as if he’d just handed her a pot of gold, opening the bag and smelling the contents with a dream like look on her face. She smiled and placed it reverently on the counter, going to the cabinets to get them all bowls.

“Well I suppose I can forgive your tardiness if you bring me treats.” she said, and again Sam shot him a look over his shoulder, schooling his face into one of neutrality as she turned to hand him a bowl. She handed one to Steve as well, and let them serve themselves a hearty looking stew while she cut generous pieces of bread to go with it. He sat down across the table from her, Sam in between them, and tucked in. It felt good, to be sitting at an actual kitchen table with a home cooked meal in front of them, instead of whatever they could scrounge up and take back to their borrowed aircraft. He could almost forget all the shit they’d been through - almost.

Conversation was light and easy, as it always was with Nicoletta. Sam gave dramatic retellings of their adventures out of the country, and she was the perfect audience, gasping and exclaiming and looking to Steve to confirm the more outrageous details. He couldn’t help but grin at their interaction, the way Sam seemed so relaxed, and the way her smile lit up the room. They all hadn’t known each other for very long, but it was easy to forget that fact with the way she treated them - as if they were family. As if they’d been friends their whole lives. Her sister was very similar, and Steve found himself thanking God (if He was still listening) that these girls had wandered into his life. 

They chatted late into the night, enjoying second and third servings of stew before she brought out cookies and coffee, saving her cake for herself and not sharing a single bit of it. It was easy to let the time pass, just enjoying being full and warm and in a loving home. It was only when Nicoletta’s head was resting on her hand and her eyes were blinking slower and slower that Steve pointed out the hour, recommending that they get some sleep before their long trip tomorrow. She looked like she was going to protest, but just taking a breath seemed to exhaust her, so she smiled and agreed. Sam opted for the couch, letting Steve have the spare bed in the art room, opposite of the arrangement last time they’d visited. It had been a while since he’d seen the room, and there were quite a few new pieces piled around it; a mystical forest scene rested on the desk, a dancer en pointe leaned against the desk leg, and a nearly finished fireworks display shone from the easel, the colors bright even in the low light. 

“What do you think?” Nicoletta asked, surprising Steve as his eyes traced over the curves of the fireworks. He turned back to see her leaning against the doorframe, a large quilt folded in her arms. 

“Looks amazing. You’re very talented.” he said honestly. He’d always been a fan of the arts, he just hadn’t had the time to pursue it lately. She blushed, as if she weren’t used to the compliments, and he wondered if she’d ever get used to them.

“Thank you.” she said softly, pausing a beat before clearing her throat and changing the subject away from herself. “I brought you this, it’s been getting cold at night recently.”

“I appreciate it.” he said, taking the quilt from her even though he very rarely got cold. He thought she would bid him goodnight after that, but she stayed, playing with something in her hands.

“I also got you something.” she said, presenting it to him. It was a small notebook, pocket sized, with an elastic to the side for a writing implement. He flipped through the pages to find they were all completely blank, except for the first, where she’d penned a heart and her name in a curling script. “So you could get back into drawing, if you find the time.”  

“I...I don’t know what to say.” he stated honestly. The cover of the sketchbook was made to seem leather, the spine sturdy as he thumbed through the empty pages. It felt like a hundred years since he’d sat down and sketched something; the last time he could remember, he’d been sitting at a cafe table in Brooklyn, feeling incredibly alone and out of place, a man separate from his own time. “Thank you.” he finally said, and she gave him a bright smile.

“You’re welcome. Sleep well.” she said in German, as if the sentiment were a secret between them. She turned and left before he could say anything else, and he swallowed down any sense of emotion that was trying to crawl out of his chest.  _ Just a friend _ , his inner voice said.  _ Get your shit together, _ it admonished. And the voice was right. Just because a woman was nice to him didn’t mean that there was anything  _ more _ . It was dangerous and inconsiderate to think as such.

He fell into a dreamless sleep, surrounded by the beautiful art and the freshly laundered quilts. Usually he found beds too soft - Sam had mentioned the same thing once, and he wondered if that was why the other man often volunteered to sleep on the couch - but this one was firm, and not quite big enough for him, which somehow made it better. It always seemed easier to sleep if there was a little bit of discomfort. The beginning of sunrise woke him, but he didn’t get up right away, instead taking a moment to relish in the silence and a few minutes of being alone. He was beyond grateful for Sam and his support, but sometimes sharing an aircraft left them with very little personal space. The sketchbook still sat on the table where he’d placed it, inviting him to open it and take a minute to focus on one little piece of the world for a few minutes. He heeded its call, plucking a pencil from one of the cups on the desk and sitting up against the wall, his eyes slowly moving around the room until he found something to draw. He settled on the window, the sun barely illuminating the far off tree line and casting shadows via the bottles of pain lined up like little soldiers on the desk underneath it. It was simple, really, nothing terribly detailed or dramatic, but the sharp lines and grey morning helped shake off a little bit of the rust that had settled on his artistic muscles.

It was only a rough sketch, but it was something, and by the time he heard someone moving around in the house it could almost be considered a real drawing. He closed the book and returned the pencil, tucking it away into the pocket of his bag before pulling on a shirt and going to see who was up and moving. Sam was in the kitchen, making use of the coffee machine while taking a gander through the refrigerator and pantry. 

“Mornin’.” he greeted as the machine started filling the large pot underneath it. 

“Morning.” Steve replied, going to the cupboard with the mugs and pulling three of them out. Nicoletta would likely sleep for a while longer - she did  _ not _ believe in early mornings - but at least it would be ready for her when she got up. “Sleep alright?”

“Like a rock.” Sam said, pulling out the ingredients to make some breakfast sandwiches. “You?”

“Like the dead.” Steve agreed. Something about Nicoletta’s house always lended them towards better rest. “Sometimes I wish we could just take a vacation here.”

“We could. There’s nothing stopping us.” Sam pointed out, trying to be quiet as he pulled out pans and cutlery to make the food. 

“Except for the whole ‘bounty on our head’ thing.” Steve said, filling two mugs with coffee and adding a bit of sugar to his.

“That does put a damper on things.” he said, nodding.

“And the ‘wanted international war criminal’ tag they’ve put on our names.” he added, making Sam groan and put down his utensils for a moment.

“Why do you always insist on ruining my day as fast as you can?” he asked sarcastically, sending a glare over his shoulder before resuming his task. Steve only smirked in response.

“I just keep it real.” he said with a shrug, and Sam let out a bark of a laugh. Steve always sounded like a grandpa anytime he tried to say anything that could be considered current. The words were technically right, but they felt wrong. He sat down at the kitchen table, leaving Sam to do all the work while he sipped at his coffee and pretended like his life wasn’t a complete mess. 

It was debatable whether the noise of them moving around or the smell of buttered toast and fried ham woke Nicoletta from her slumber, and she softly padded into room with half opened eyes and a wild mane of honey hair, her arms crossed over her middle and a thick robe over her to stave off the morning chill. She accepted the cup of coffee from Sam with a smile, coming to sit next to Steve at the table.

“I could get used to this.” she mumbled in German, making him smile. Sam shot them a suspicious look, flipping a sandwich with a bit more gusto than necessary.

“Alright, I see how it is.” he remarked, assembling everything before bringing the plates to the table, since it was clear that neither of his companions were going to get up to help him. Nicoletta took a plate from him with another smile, her payment for the meal.

“To be fair, I did give you a free place to stay last night.” she said, eyeing the very American breakfast in front of her as if it were the highest, fanciest cuisine that had ever graced her table. Sam nodded and turned to Steve, holding his plate hostage.

“And what’s your excuse?” he asked, making Steve laugh and think for a second.

“I saved your ass back in Batnos.” he offered, dutifully ignoring the rest of the times that he got the other man in trouble. The look on Sam’s face said he was thinking the same thing, but he wasn’t about to start a discussion in front of their hostess, and he grudgingly granted Steve his food. 

Breakfast was quiet compared to their supper the night before; Sam and Steve were used to waking up and immediately being on duty, off to disturb the peace or save it, depending on the day. Nicoletta didn’t live that life. She took in the early moments of the morning, starting her day with as little stress as possible before easing in to the rest. It made the men restless, but they did their best to hide it, letting her float through the first hours as she washed the dishes and put them away before going back into her room. The shower cut on a few minutes later, and they figured finally, they were going to get going. Of course, they vastly underestimated the time Nicoletta required to get ready, and the clock was nearer to noon than to the early morning when she finally stepped back out, hair and makeup done and a dress adorning her figure. Steve wondered if it was shear luck that her overnight bag matched her dress, or if she’d purchased either on purpose to complement. Either way, she was ready, and didn’t bat an eye as they led her onto the wildly advanced Wakandan craft. 

He couldn’t help but watch her as they crossed the barrier into the secret country, her jaw dropping at the gorgeous expanse that appeared in front of them. He was glad for the panoramic view that the plane allowed, grinning as she tried to take in every detail. She’d never been to Africa, he knew, and figured if she only had the time to see one place, this might be her best option. He wished they had time to visit the palace, but perhaps that would be something she could do with her sister tomorrow morning before they headed back to Berlin. The sun was just starting to set on the horizon, setting the world on fire as their small craft landed down the way from a little house set into the hill. 

Apparently Mika couldn’t wait for them to get up to the front door, as she was halfway down the hill by the time the ramp touched the grass. As soon as she saw her, Nicoletta forgot her traveling companions, running as fast as she could (which, admittedly, was not terribly fast) until her sister took her up in her arms. He could hear both girls chattering away in Romanian, their voices thick with emotions as they could finally confirm that they were alright. Above them, Bucky waited on the front porch, leaning his one elbow on the railing and smiling at the interaction. He stood up as they stepped out, lifting his hand in greeting as they followed in Nicoletta’s wake. Mika gave him nearly the same treatment, finally letting go of her sister and leaping into Steve’s arms. He caught her around the waist, laughing as she squeezed him tightly. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed her; another friend on his list, one that’d been pretty short for the past few years. Even Sam got a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek before they finally made their way up to the house.

“How’s it going, old man?” Bucky greeted. He looked...lighter, compared to the last time he had seen him. He was actually smiling, and welcomed the embrace Steve offered. 

“Who’re you calling old? You’re older than me.” he said back, moving so Nicoletta could tackle him. Based on the look on his face, Steve thought Bucky might be a little bit homesick as well, though he would never admit it. She spoke to him in German, so quickly that Steve only caught every other word, but he did hear the one that made Bucky’s cheeks tinge red -  _ brother-in-law _ . He perked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, waiting until Sam and Nicoletta and Mika were all back in the house before commenting, “I didn’t know you got married. I’m a little hurt I wasn’t invited.”

“I didn’t know either.” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed by the girl’s term of endearment. Steve couldn’t stop the smirk from breaking across his face.

“C’mon, Buck. Your girl’s waiting on us.” he said, pushing Bucky towards the door. For the first time in over seventy years, he could finally say, “We’ve got a party.”

_ Party _ may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it seemed to fit for the two of them. He wondered how much time they’d spent in the kitchen that morning, since the entire kitchen island was covered in food, and a variety of drinks were nestled in ice chests nearby. Sam was sitting with Nicoletta, Mika, and another woman he didn’t know, a beer already in hand and lively conversation going. Bucky tossed him a beer, then surprised him by picking up a wine glass instead of grabbing another bottle for himself.

“Wine, huh? You all fancy now?” he asked, easily cracking open the bottle and taking a sip. Bucky shrugged, not embarrassed by the jab at all. 

“Sangria. Tell ya what, we might have had it wrong, back in the day.” he said, holding the glass out for Steve to try. He perked an eyebrow.

“Sangria, huh? It’s like I don’t even know you.” he joked before drinking it, the flavor surprising him. “Holy shit.”

“Yea, you wanted to make fun of me, but it’s delicious.” he jabbed, taking the glass back. “Secret Spanish recipe, apparently, from one of Mika’s exes.”

“Ex, huh? You feel threatened?” he asked, taking some food to have something to do with his hands. It was so easy to see the man that he used to know, to slip back into that familiarity, that it shocked him when he remembered everything they’d been through separately. He definitely noticed the lack of a left arm, but didn’t see fit to comment on it; he could learn it all in good time. For now, it was about trying to reclaim the years they’d lost.

“Not at all. She couldn’t even get her to stay in Spain, and I got her to move to Africa.” he said with a shrug. Steve tried to keep his face neutral, but couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising.

“‘She’ huh?” he said, wondering what Bucky’s mother would say back in the day. But they weren’t  _ back in the day _ anymore, and neither one of them had ended up where they thought they would. “Times have changed.”

“Could be worse.” Bucky said. It wasn’t short, or defensive. It was a statement of fact. That was the real moment that Steve knew there were changes in Bucky, changes that were going to linger even after whatever magic the princess had done to fix what was in his head. Before, he would’ve been up in arms if anything remotely slight was said against his girl. But now, he didn’t feel the need to fight, probably because he knew he could win. 

“You’re right about that.” Steve acknowledged. Luckily, he was saved from trying to pull his foot out of his mouth by someone calling his name from the living room, pulling both of them back into the fray. 

Some time later, T’Challa actually wandered in, with Clint and Wanda in tow. There were a lot of jailbreak jokes, and Steve wondered if having the King present would change the tone of the party, but T’Challa didn’t have his crown on - literally or figuratively. He was relaxed, easy going, and seemed happy to be included in something that didn’t involve politics or coups. The last to arrive was Shuri, who snuck in just as they were sitting down for supper, during which of course Steve made sure to position Sam next to Mika’s sister. When was the last time he’d been to a dinner party? Probably the hellacious one before the mess with Ultron. This one was going to end much better. 

It was easy, hanging out here. Just like at Nicoletta’s house, he could pretend that the world outside the boundaries didn’t exist. Bucky sat in one of the comfortable chairs, Mika perched on his knees as she spoke with Clint and Wanda. Konani (the woman he hadn’t known earlier) and Shuri were next to them, also jumping in with their own stories. Nicoletta and Sam looked like they were having a riveting discussion in the kitchen, though he couldn’t tell the topic exactly. T’Challa sat with him for a while, enjoying the time away from the palace for as long as he could before his duty called him back. Steve wasn’t alone for long, as Nicoletta surprised him by sliding onto the armrest of his chair.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” she said in German, knowing only Bucky would be able to understand her, and he was a good secret keeper. 

“I have not.” he replied, though if he thought about it, perhaps he was. “I’ve been giving you and your  _ friend _ there some space.” he added, nodding subtly towards Sam. Nicoletta rolled her eyes, saying something in Romanian that he didn’t understand.

“We’re just friends.” she parroted Sam’s words from earlier. She said it so surely that he almost believed it. “Partners in crime.”

“Oh yea? You joining the renegade squad now?” he teased, and she pinched the skin of his bicep with a force that only a youngest sibling could produce.

“No. Just trying to get him a date.” she said, turning his attention over to Sam. He sat on the couch next to Konani, looking like he was trying really hard to be chill. 

“You jealous?” he asked her, tearing his eyes away and looking back at her. She leaned her elbow on the back of the chair, resting her head on her hand. She was close, very close, but he didn’t put space between them this time. 

“If I was, do you think I would be over here talking to you?” she said pointedly, holding his gaze. His heart skipped a beat, and he wondered if he’d been missing something over the past few  weeks.

“It’s possible. Known more than a couple girls in my day who would play that.” he said, and she let out a huff.

“For such a smart man, Steve, you can be so dumb sometimes.” she sighed. The light bulb finally came on in his head; he’d just assumed that with all their flirtations, the two of them were on to something. Seemed he knew even less about women than he thought. “Sam is a friend - probably a good friend - but you’re something else, Steve.”

He couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh, unintentionally thinking of Sharon, and the last discussion they had over a month ago. “I’ve been told I’m, uh, emotionally unavailable and...oh, what was the other one...stuck in the past.”

“Or, consider this,” Nicoletta countered, gesturing with her nearly empty wine glass. “Independent, and nostalgic. Both qualities I like in people.”

Steve laughed again. “You deserve better than independent and nostalgic.”

“Even if that’s what I want?” she asked, and for a second, he wanted to give in, despite the fact that his realization of any sorts of feelings had occurred approximately twelve seconds prior. “Not everything has to be so serious, you know.” 

He wasn’t sure she meant what she was implying, but the look on her face said she was. Again, he had a deep desire to accept, but knew that he couldn’t. “You’re a girl that I would  _ only _ be serious with.” he said honestly. Natasha had briefly attempted to convince him to try and find a friend with benefits, but he just wasn’t that kind of guy. And Nicoletta deserved better than that anyway.

She pouted a bit, but nodded. She was a big girl, she wasn’t going to fight him if that was how he felt. “Friends then?”

“Friends.” he agreed, glad that she didn’t seem upset with him. He had precious few friends left, and needed every one. “Plus, I’m pretty sure your sister could take me in a fight.”

They took the moment to glance over at the woman in question, who was now leaning on Bucky’s chest as the talking continued. She wasn’t paying them any mind, though Bucky’s eyes did glance over and send them a wink. Nicoletta laid her head on Steve’s shoulder, the gesture innocent, comforting - friendly.

“I miss her.” she whispered. “But I’m glad she’s happy.”

Steve didn’t know how to respond to this, but he definitely agreed, though his sentiments erred more towards the side of the man sitting on the chair. Sometimes, he still woke up in the middle of the night, hearing Bucky’s screams and watching his face as he fell from the train. Other nights, he dreamed of going to the Continental Club, trying to keep up with him as he danced with girl after girl. But now, he was here, and a completely new version of himself, piecing everything back together.

Steve figured if Bucky could do it, then he could too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wellp i think y'all can tell that i originally meant to have nicky end up with sam, but honestly when writing them, she had a ton more chemistry with steve. and who am i to try and force love?


	54. Sunrise, Sunset

He could get used to this life, Bucky thought.

He usually woke with the sun, the early light spilling into their bedroom and gently pulling him from his sleep. He still had his restless nights, of course, and still had his occasional nightmares - but they didn’t grip him like a bear trap, didn’t make him feel like he was stuck in his own mind. He would wake with his heart hammering, his body sweating, but his muscles weren’t frozen in fear, and his joints didn’t ache with the resistance. Instead, he could shower, put his arm around his girl, and go back to sleep. 

He almost always woke up first, which was fine by him. He liked to take the first few moments of the day to center himself, his mantra different than it used to be, but still just as grounding.  _ My name is Bucky. I live in Wakanda. I’m in love with a girl named Mika _ . Said girl was usually sprawled across the bed next to him, her state of dress questionable and her dark hair a tangled halo around her as she slept. Unlike him, she was a heavy sleeper, and often turned away from the light in an effort to get a few more moments of rest. The sunrise painted her skin gold, and while he always wanted to reach out and touch her, he instead would get up, leaving her to her last minutes of peace. 

She often woke to the sounds of him cooking breakfast. He tried his best to be quiet, but there was only so much stealth he could afford when attempting to do things with one arm. He always had a mug of coffee waiting for her as she sauntered into the kitchen, her eyes still heavy from the last clinging bits of sleep. Bare legs swung idly as she sat on the island, watching as he made them their most important meal of the day. He loved this little morning bubble, starting every day as if time and pain and the rest of the world didn’t exist. God, how long had it been since he was this  _ happy _ ?

While it was normally just the two of them in the house, they’d had some guests over the past few days. Steve and Sam took Nicoletta back to her home after their little party, but instead of going back out into the world to whatever mayhem they could find, they’d returned to Wakanda to recharge and refuel. It was kind of weird having a full house for the first time since he lived with his parents, but it wasn’t unpleasant. There was something nostalgic about having Steve in a room down the hall, even if they were still relearning each other. Bucky couldn’t count the ways he’d changed during his years with Hydra, but Steve wasn’t the same either. He didn’t know if the other man saw the differences in himself, but to Bucky, who only remembered the time before, they were obvious. He’d always been a little impulsive and too smart for his own good, but those qualities seemed to be compounded, and the sense of urgency that was usually simmering beneath the surface was now boiling over. But for all the inflation that Steve had from before, Bucky felt like all his own qualities were now subdued. He wasn’t the life of the party, wasn’t trying to be the best and brightest. He no longer had the energy to carry it all out; now, he just wanted to rest. Well, rest and tend to his goats.

The open field down the hill from their home was slowly turning into the farm he never knew he wanted. The animals were starting to know him, and having a list of chores to do every day was helping his mind in the last few miles of recovery that he had left to go. Change he could handle, but being idle he could not, and he was so grateful to the King for giving him this opportunity. First, he took care of the goats, checking on the new baby that he’d mentioned to Steve and getting all their food out and situated so that they wouldn’t go searching for food in other places, as he learned the hard way. Luckily his tracking skills extended to hooved farm animals, who left obvious paths as they wandered away from their home. After the goats, he walked to the other side of the abandoned barn (that he was gonna fix up one of these days...probably) to the chicken coop, ducking in with his bowl and collecting the eggs in the nests. They had an extra one today, which would make Mika happy - she’d been wanting to make some challah, which required a lot of eggs. And butter. Speaking of, their one cow wandered out from the trees, mooing at him as she ambled over. He grinned, pulling a dinner roll from his pocket as she wandered up, her nose immediately nuzzling his hand searching for the treat. 

“You’re spoiled, you know that?” he murmured, though she seemed unconcerned with the jab. She just lipped at his pocket in case there were more snacks, nudging him harder and harder until he was nearly pushing him over, making him laugh and pull the second roll from his pocket. He scratched her between the ears and started back towards the barn, knowing that she would follow him. Poor cow, she was very sweet, but she wasn’t the brightest, as every day she followed him to where he milked her and acted surprised whenever they got there. He was just dumping the bucket of milk into the fancy pasteurizer that Shuri made them (which looked quite out of place in the old barn) when Steve wandered in, clearly fresh from the shower (and also looking a bit out of place). 

“I know you’re in hiding, but damn I wish the world could see this.” he remarked, eyeing Bucky’s various farming equipment and the disgruntled cow. Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

“What, think it’s funny to see the Winter Soldier turned into a farm hand?” he asked, waving with his one arm. Steve rolled his eyes at the lame quip, not dignifying it with even a chuckle.

“Seventy-something years, and somehow you’ve gotten even  _ less _ funny.” he said in return, helping him place the now-full milk bottles in a carrier. Bucky handed him the bucket of eggs.

“Careful with those, Mika will kill me if we lose them.” he said, making his way back towards the house. “And to be fair, I was not allowed to be funny for most of that time.”

Steve winced, as if for a moment he forgot exactly  _ why _ Bucky had been gone this whole time. He didn’t blame him for that; sometimes, the way they interacted seemed so normal and familiar that he could almost forget it too. “If you don’t take that look off your face, I’ma punch it off.” he said. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want Steve to feel guilty. After decades of asking  _ why me _ and  _ where did I go wrong _ , Bucky had decided that it was no fault except for the scientists who had taken him and brainwashed him. He would carry the deaths he’d caused for the rest of his life, but at least he was slowly realizing that they may not have been his fault.

“No excuses then. Be funnier.” Steve said, though his voice didn’t quite measure up to the jab. Bucky shot him a look, but didn’t respond, only shifting his grip on the milk bottles. Mika thought he was funny, that should be enough, right?

“Question.” he started, figuring it was time to change the subject since he didn’t have her here to help him win the discussion. There was something he’d been thinking about for a while, and even moreso with recent events. He was just a little afraid of the answer.

“Answer.” Steve said without thinking, readying himself for something painful, or emotional. He had no idea what was going on in Bucky’s head anymore; before, his emotions were plain on his face, and he wore his heart on his sleeve. Now, his expression was neutral and collected most of the time, and the only time he really saw him break the facade was with Mika. 

“Do you know what happened to my safe deposit box? At Williamsburg?” he asked. He’d opened the account with them when he was thirteen and his father passed away, figuring he could put a few keepsakes in there that could either serve as sentimental pieces for his mother, or could bring in quick cash if they needed it. Of course, he ended up just adding to the collection a few years later, when his mother also passed away. It was supposed to be a backup if his sister ever needed money, or to help him start a new life after the War. Of course, now he couldn’t remember most of the things that were in it, but he knew they were important.

“Oh, uh, I think I may have it.” Steve said, his brows furrowed. “I’ll have to make some calls and see, but I know Peg-Agent Carter put a lot of my things in storage with the SSR, so it’s probably there.” His face turned sad. “I tried to give it to your sister but uh...she wouldn’t agree to see me.”

“What? Why not?” Bucky asked, confused. Sure, she was still a young girl the last time they’d seen her, but she’d always liked Steve, as far as he knew. Was he just misremembering? Steve’s face turned red, and he had to clear his throat before continuing.

“She blamed me. For your death.” he finally admitted. Bucky had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He wanted to make a joke about how his sister was always so  _ dramatic _ and how she probably would have gotten over it, but the look on Steve’s face and the little bit that Bucky was able to read about him in the museum made him hold his tongue.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” he said, saying the same words that Mika had been telling him for the past few months, ever since he told her about his past as the Winter Soldier. “You didn’t make me do anything. You didn’t push me off that train.” He said it so bluntly that it surprised Steve, who gave a dry laugh and looked off towards the house instead of at him.

“Sure felt like it was my fault.” he said. He shifted the basket of eggs in his hand so he could clap Bucky on the shoulder. “But no matter, we both somehow made it out alive.”

“We always were too stubborn to die.” Bucky agreed, grinning. They continued up the path towards the house, but slowed as they spotted a vehicle that they didn’t recognize. There was no reason for him to feel alarm, but that didn’t stop Bucky from analyzing the surroundings, looking for signs of struggle and listening for screams of distress. Steve noticed the change in his posture and scanned the area, looking for the same things. But all was quiet, so Bucky knew either everything was fine, or they were already too late. 

They came through the front door and heard voices in the kitchen. Mika’s accent and Sam’s tenor were easily recognizable, but there was a third voice present that, while vaguely familiar, did not make sense in this context. But Natasha Romanoff did not need context, she only needed to be where she wanted to be. The redhead stood leaning against the island as if it were a normal occurrence, smirking over a cup of coffee as Steve and Bucky wandered in. Bucky hesitated, not knowing how this meeting was going to go; he remembered seeing her in Berlin, though under completely different circumstances, and he remembered seeing her long before that, in an assassin’s den disguised as a ballet studio. And he had no doubt that she remembered him perfectly. 

“Nat.” Steve said shortly, his posture straight and his tone defensive. He didn’t know which side she was coming from, and was prepared for anything. She gave him an annoyed look, clearly not appreciating his attitude.

“Do you really think I’d be sitting here chatting it up over coffee if I was coming to arrest you? Please, Rogers, you know me better than that.” she said. Mika perked up at their entrance, coming to get the farm fresh milk and eggs from the men.

“Natasha was just challenging me to a spar, and I was politely declining.” she said, not really sensing the tension between them. Or, perhaps she sensed the tension, and was trying her best to dissipate it. Either way, she placed the eggs on the counter, just in case Steve decided to use them as projectiles.

“Why are you here then?” Steve asked, ignoring Mika’s comment and only answering to Natasha. Mika looked to Bucky, who shrugged. If he needed to, he could take out the Black Widow, even with just one arm. 

“I finished negotiations with the UN.” she said, figuring she better get right to the point. “They will allow you back in the United States if you promise to retire. And live under house arrest on the Avengers compound.”

“For how long?” Steve asked, glancing at Sam. The other man nodded; Natasha had given him the same deal. 

“Indefinite.” she responded. “And they made the point to mention multiple times that they would not be calling on us unless the threat is perceived to be outside of their ability.”

“Us?” Steve asked. Mika slowly moved around them, trying not to draw attention to herself as she came to stand next to Bucky.

“Any idea what’s going on?” she whispered in Romanian, her eyes flicking between each member of the conversation as if she were watching a weird three-person tennis match.

“Not a clue.” Bucky replied in kind. He was more concerned with how Natasha not only got into Wakanda, but also found their little corner of the world. Were they that traceable? Was it that easy to track them? Did he have some sort of device in him now that he didn’t know about, signaling his whereabouts to the world?

“The Avengers Initiative was officially terminated.” she said. “With no intention of revival.” 

“So that’s it then.” Sam said, his arms crossed over his chest. “Y’all are just done?”

“Oh don’t worry, known associates are also included in this termination.” she added. So, all of them were being shut down? That didn’t sit well with Mika, though to be fair, she was still relatively new to this whole superhero business, and was quite biased towards the men in her kitchen.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Steve said. He didn’t sound angry, or combative. He just sounded...tired. Natasha’s trademark smirk got even wider. 

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee for dramatic effect. “That’s why I told them I’d come find you, and then decided to completely ghost them.”

“You did  _ what _ now?” Sam asked. Bucky and Steve both looked confused, and Mika found herself hurriedly explaining the slang to Bucky in a fervent whisper. His brows shot towards his hairline in surprise. Natasha looked nonplussed.

“I still stand by what I said before. We’re better together, no matter how it is that we’re together.” she said. She pushed off the island, putting her empty cup in the sink. “But the fact of the matter is, things are so far gone that their only response it to make an example of us - to chain us up and keep us quiet. And I don’t know about you, but there’s only certain situations where I like being tied up.”

“Oh shit.” Mika whispered, and Bucky prodded her ribs with his elbow to shut her up. This was not their conversation.

“So we really are just gonna live outside the law now, huh?” Sam asked, looking to Steve for confirmation. But before he could answer, Natasha spoke again.

“You’re welcome to go back to the compound. That was the deal. You won’t be punished for anything we decide.” she said. She turned to Mika then, and Mika froze now that the full attention was on her. “They even included you in the deal.”

“Me? Why me? What about Bucky?” she asked, alarmed. She looked to Bucky, but he had no more information than she did. He was very still, his eyes alert as he tried to gauge exactly what was going on. Every light feeling he had that morning was gone, and dread and uncertainty had settled like a stone in his stomach.

“You were a known associate, and thus included in the negotiations. As for Barnes…” her eyes slid over to his, and she left the sentence hanging. Mika didn’t know what she meant, but Bucky did. All that would be waiting for him back in America was imprisonment. Life sentence, no parole. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Do not ever see his girl without metal bars between them ever again.

But at the same time, Bucky thought, this could be her freedom. She didn’t have to hide here, didn’t have to limit her communication with her friends and family. Perhaps one day they’d even let her move back to her home. 

“Absolutely not, then.” Mika said definitively. Bucky held his hand out, putting it on her wrist to stop her from saying anything more.

“Not so fast.” he said softly in Romanian. She pulled away from him, looking alarmed and borderline offended.

“What?” she asked him. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard from him.

“You have a chance to go back to a normal life, to be cleared of everything-” he started to make his case, but she quite literally stomped her foot, halting his statement.

“Bucky Barnes don’t you  _ dare _ .” she seethed in Romanian, not caring that they had an audience or that Natasha could technically understand them. 

“I’m just saying, this is your chance at freedom.” he said, trying to keep his voice calm even though his heart was cracking and breaking in a blaze in his chest. 

“And I’m just saying  _ no _ . We talked about this.” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Think about it.” he said. He didn’t want to be the reason that she was separated from her entire life, didn’t want her to end up miserable because she was trapped in the bubble of Wakanda. She blinked twice.

“I thought about it. I’m staying.” she said. He opened his mouth again, but she silenced him with a glare. He chanced a look at their guests, and as his gaze met theirs they all suddenly averted their eyes, as if they hadn’t been completely eavesdropping on the heated conversation awkwardly happening in the middle of them. 

“Anyways.” Bucky said in English. He would try to talk to Mika about it later, make sure that this was the decision she really wanted. It was one thing when they talked about it at first, when she had no option but to stay here (unless she wanted to return to the Raft). But now...now things were changing. 

“So you’re not going back?” Sam asked Natasha, and she nodded. He turned to Steve. “And you’re not going back?”

“No.” he replied. Bucky had a feeling he had some more colorful sentiments he wanted to add to the word, but he kept them to himself. Sam nodded, thinking to himself for a minute before sighing.

“Well hell, I don’t want to deal with Stark all on my own. Guess I’m going outlaw too.” he said. There was a tense moment where it sunk in exactly what they were doing, but it didn’t last long as they realized what would be waiting for them otherwise. 

“I still have contacts in the KGB. They can give us enough information to keep busy.” Natasha offered. Sam scoffed.

“Trust me, Cap can find his own trouble to keep busy.” he said, shooting a look at the other man. Steve didn’t even bother trying to defend himself, instead just grinning and tilting his head slightly in acknowledgement. 

“Either way, it’ll be a little less trouble with you around.” he said, directing the words at Natasha. Mika could see the way his shoulders relaxed now, how he carried himself a little easier. Like Bucky, he was a man who needed a plan. But unlike Bucky, he was also a man in search of a fight. As if the three of them had the same thought at the same time, they all turned and looked at Mika and Bucky. She didn’t know the question that they weren’t asking with words; did they want them to join? Or were they seeing if they were going to give in and take the deal?

“And when you need a break, we’ll always have a home for you.” Mika offered. Sure, she missed some aspects of her old life: she missed her Friday night dates with Elena, and the way Hans always knew what drink she wanted, and how Nicolae always had some sort of party for them to go to. But the thought of sitting at a desk writing the same old codes and going back to an empty apartment was enough to make a shiver go down her spine. Compounding that with the thought that Bucky would either be jailed or a world away? No. This was where she wanted to be - where she  _ needed _ to be. 

Bucky was still hesitant, but Mika didn’t let him voice his concerns. Not yet, anyway. She reached down and took his hand, intertwining their fingers and gripping his tightly. His chest felt tight with emotion, and he fought to keep it from showing on his face. With Hydra, he couldn’t show weakness because it would lead to pain; here, he had to keep his feelings in check to avoid ridicule. But perhaps he wouldn’t mind the ridicule so much.

“I love you.” he murmured in Romanian. Sure, Natasha could understand them, but what was she going to do about it? Make fun of him? That was the least of his worries.

“I love you too.” Mika said back, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. She turned her attention to Natasha. “Now, I believe you mentioned something about sparring earlier…”

Natasha gave her a devilish smirk. “Oh, I did. Do you think you can keep up?” she asked, her head tipped in a challenge. Mika laughed, her body already buzzing with adrenaline. She knew what it was like sparring with Bucky, and with the Dora Milaje. What would it be like with Natasha?

“Not at all, but I’m going to try.” she said with a laugh, gesturing towards their training room at the back of the house and leading the other woman off. Bucky shook his head, going to put away everything they’d gotten earlier.

“So what’s next?” he asked, trying to make conversation. He didn’t care about the minimal tension left strung in the room, but he figured the other men did. And he knew enough about people now to shift the attention to something else.

“Sounds like Nat will find something for us.” Sam said, though he didn’t sound terribly excited about it. Given his knowledge of Steve and the healing bruises that were mostly hidden by the color of Sam’s skin, Bucky couldn’t blame him.

“At least with her we’ll have one person with a decent head on their shoulders.” Steve said. Ah, so he knew about the impulsivity and recklessness. Bucky didn’t know if that was good, or if that somehow made it even worse. “What about you, Buck?”

He thought for a minute, both men looking at him in interest. He could hear the vague invite in Steve’s question,  _ do you want to come with us?  _ He chose to blatantly ignore it. “Well, the garden needs tending to. I’ll probably start with that.” he said.  _ No, I’m happy here.  _

“God, you’re so  _ old _ .” Steve groaned, making Sam laugh and a smile appear on Bucky’s face. Yes, he was old. But after ninety-something years, he could finally do what he wanted.

And that’s what he was going to stick to. 


	55. One Year Later

An entire year passed.

A year’s worth of happiness, of homesickness, of late night talks and early morning cups of coffee. A year’s worth of new people, new traditions, new holidays and experiences. They’d celebrated a thirtieth birthday, a hundredth birthday, and two actual birth days. A year’s worth of nightmares receding, of peace growing, of basking in the warmth of the African sun. A year’s worth of  _ I’m staying,  _ and  _ we belong together _ , and  _ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

Bucky ducked quickly, avoiding a quick swing from Mika’s arm. A year’s worth of training had done her well, and since he was currently down an appendage, she could really, actually,  _ almost _ keep up with him. It helped that she’d been working out with Kanoni too, when she wasn’t on duty with the Dora Milaje. The warriors of the King’s guard had a fighting style that he’d never seen before, quick and sharp and fluid in a way that reminded him of the hurricane in a tube he’d seen at one World’s Fair. Mika took to it easily, even faster than when he was teaching her back in their little gym in Bucharest, which definitely made their little sparring sessions much more difficult.

He caught her leg as she sent it out at him, trying to pull her off her balance. But her balance was much improved after a year of practice, and she used the momentum to launch herself onto him, her thighs gripping around his ribs as she knocked him back. Luckily his muscles were strong enough to (mostly) maintain his posture, his ribs straining against her hold; a lesser man would have the wind knocked out of him, but since he was a genetically engineered super soldier, he only lost about half of his. He stumbled backwards as her weight settled high on him, threatening to tip them over. If he had two arms, he could hold onto her and cushion their descent to the ground, but he only had one...which she knew. And because she was a fast learner and he was a good teacher, she used that information to her advantage. Often. 

He moved backwards until his back touched the wall, kicking off of it and using it to change his direction. Now that he had his body back under control, he could let go of her and tickle her ribs, getting her to squirm and hop off of him, smacking his hand away as she put just enough space between them so he couldn’t reach. She glared at him, but all he could do was grin.

“That’s cheating.” she said, pouting. He took a step towards her, and she took a step back. She didn’t even have to think about it anymore, which made his heart swell with pride.

“It’s not cheating, there’s no rules.” he replied, once again slowly advancing. She kept the distance between them, waiting for him to make a move or for her to spot an opening. He might be missing an arm, but he still knew how to cover it; the first decade with his prosthesis, he’d done everything in his power not to use it, the only rebellion that he could fashion in his situation. She perked an eyebrow.

“There’s a few rules.” she said, a light implication under her tone. She couldn’t hide the small smirk on her face, and he knew exactly to what she was referring.

“I don’t know if those count as rules.” he said, still advancing on her in a controlled manner. “They’re more...wagers.”

“Wagers have rules.” she pointed out, waiting until he stepped over his other foot to lunge at him. He ducked down to avoid her again, his hand stopping her knee and pushing it away as she tried to drive it up towards him, then immediately grabbed her around the waist again. However, his grip was different time, allowing him to stand up and flip her upside down, holding her as if she were a small child. She certainly squealed like one, her hands going to the floor to steady herself. Once stable, she moved her legs quickly, surprising him by wrapping them around his neck and removing her hands, using her weight to drop them both to the ground. He tried to sit up quickly, but she scrambled on top of him, and while he could remove her if he so chose, he decided he didn’t mind losing if they ended up like this. Though he  _ was _ going to have to have a word with Natasha about teaching Mika new moves when he wasn’t looking.

“And it looks like you’ve won this one.” he said with a smirk as she laid her hands on his chest. “So what’ll it be? Breakfast, or…?”

“Hmm,” she hummed, tapping his chest as the pretended to think. She smiled, leaning down to give him a deep and lingering kiss. “I think I can get breakfast at the lab.” 

“I like that idea.” he replied, his hand going behind her head to pull her in for another kiss. They were both hot, and sweaty, and more than a little tired from their workout that morning, but there was a silent agreement that they could rally. 

He’d just gotten her shirt and sports bra off and was halfway down the trail of kisses over her stomach when they heard a vehicle pull up in front of the house. They paused their activities, Mika trying to slow her breath so that Bucky could use his enhanced hearing to his full advantage.

“Who is it?” she asked quietly. He could hear the door open, the feet hit the ground. Just one pair this time. Their herding dog, Luna, popped her head up from where she’d been passed out on the couch, her ears perked as she listened too. Bucky wondered if he looked like that when he was straining to hear something far away. 

“Steve. Just Steve.” he said, sitting up with a resigned sigh. She groaned, pulling her clothes back on, making a face as the sweaty fabric stuck against her skin and fought against her. “What, were you hoping for a different answer?”

“If it was Natasha, or Kanoni, I didn’t have to put this nasty thing back on.” she said, snapping the strap of her bra. He laughed, shaking his head as he stood up, watching her continue to struggle as she couldn’t find a comfortable way to wear the offending article.

“I don’t think Steve would mind.” Bucky said, grinning. Really, he just wanted to Steve slightly uncomfortable as he tried to look anywhere but in that direction. She gave him an annoyed look as she took his outstretched hand, joining him in standing just as Steve pushed open the front door. 

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, limping into the house and reaching down with his free hand to greet Luna, who was welcoming him with a wagging tail. Bruises blossomed on his neck from underneath his uniform, and a knife slash had torn through one of his sleeves. He gave a half-hearted smile, as if even the small gesture hurt.  

“No.” Mika said at the same time Bucky said, “Yes.” She sent a glare his direction, going up to Steve to hug him and kiss his cheek, avoiding the abrasions that she could see now that she was close to him.

“You look terrible. Go get cleaned up, we’ll get breakfast ready.” she said, making Steve laugh. 

“Sad thing is, this  _ is _ cleaned up.” he said, nodding at Bucky and hobbling to the guest room. Mika paused for a moment, looking like she was thinking really hard about something, but ended up just shaking her head and going into the kitchen. Bucky let out a sigh, resigning himself to the fact that his morning was not going to be as great as he thought it would be. 

Freshly showered and out of his uniform, Steve somehow looked even worse. The short sleeved shirt showed off even more cuts and bruises, and the way he sat at the kitchen table - slightly leaning towards his left side - gave away the likely injury to his ribs. But he still smiled, gratefully accepting the large cup of coffee that Mika handed to him and spooning just a little bit of sugar into it. Bucky knew the look he had as he carefully stirred it; no matter what, they couldn’t get over the fact that sugar was so easily accessible now. Mika ladeled it into coffee, tea, and half of her baked goods without a second thought, but Bucky still remembered his little sister crying when his mother brought home bread and fruit preserves instead of a cake for her birthday. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like sweets now?

He let go of that train of thought as he brought breakfast to the table. At short notice, he wasn’t able to prepare anything more than oatmeal while Mika chopped up the last of the fruit they’d gotten from the market a couple days before. He’d have to send the kids to go get them more later today; they always knew the best sellers, and who had the best harvests, though Bucky also had the sneaking suspicion that they just got their favorites or bought from their friends. But since they hadn’t gone wrong with any of their purchases, he didn’t feel the need to address it.

“So where were you this time?” Mika asked as they settled at the table, Luna curling up next to Steve’s chair (where she was most likely to get a snack from the table). She followed their example, piling fruit into her bowl, but added some whipped cream and honey to go with it. Bucky, used to this, paid it no mind, but Steve watched her for a second before deciding to try cream with his breakfast as well. Mika thought he was just trying to avoid the question for a second longer. 

“Syria.” he said after a moment, looking at his bowl instead of at her so he didn’t have to see the mother hen look she was giving him. There was a long silence as they tried to outlast each other; Steve was stubborn, but he had nothing on Mika when she was trying to keep her friend safe. He finally gave in, and looked up at her, almost against his will. 

“Sounds dangerous.” she said pointedly, her eyes obviously glancing over his list of injuries. She took a slow, dramatic bite of breakfast. “And you’re hurt.”

“You should see the other guys.” Steve replied, though the cheeky grin he tried to give fell flat under her intense gaze.

“Steve-” 

“I know, I know.” he interrupted. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and it would certainly not be the last. Bucky had to suppress a grin; he loved when someone else was on the receiving end of Mika’s wrath, even though he definitely did everything in his power to avoid it nowadays. Maybe that’s why she hassled Steve so often - Bucky was actually behaving himself, so she had to worry about someone else. 

“If you know, then why do you keep doing it?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. She kind of reminded him of her mother in that moment, though he would never,  _ ever _ admit that to her out loud. He filed it away in his brain to tell to her sister later, figuring Nicoletta would get a good laugh out of it.

“Because I’m an idiot, Meeks, haven’t you figured that out yet?” he said, the comment finally breaking her tough facade and making her chuckle. “I’m old, but I’m not old enough to be ready to retire and live a farm life yet.”

“Give it another year or two. You’ll get there.” Bucky said, his spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl as he finished his food. Luna perked her ears at the sound, but since he didn’t put the bowl on the floor (like he did when Mika wasn’t home), she didn’t bother picking up her head. 

“I’ve got a few decades in me yet, I think.” Steve replied, finishing his food as well. Mika shot him a dark look, but chose not to comment, instead just picking up the dishes and taking them to the sink. Fed and happy, he sank back into the chair and looked officially exhausted. “After a solid nap, of course.”

Mika coughed, covering up something in Romanian that sounded suspiciously like  _ old man _ , the look he gave her telling her that he was starting to pick up on the other language now. But she didn’t turn back around, instead focusing on her task. She checked her watch, then upped her pace; if she didn’t get out of the house in the next few minutes, she would be late meeting Shuri, which would not go over well. As she reached up to put the bowls back in the cupboard, the cold fabric of her clothes sent a chill through her, reminding her that she still hadn’t cleaned up from the sparring that morning.  _ Shit _ , she still needed to shower. 

“I’ve got to get ready and go. Good to see you in one piece, Steve.” she said, ruffling his hair as she walked out of the kitchen, Luna trotting after her. They could hear the sound of the dog jumping on the bed (where she supposedly was not allowed) as Mika got into the shower, trying to quickly rinse off before going into the city center.

“You really okay?” Bucky asked Steve after a few minutes of sipping coffee. Nicoletta would want that update too, if she hadn’t gotten it already. She always asked about Steve and Sam and Natasha, but Bucky thought she had a hierarchy to her concerns. He thought about it for a second, as if taking mental note of all his injuries, before finally nodding.

“Could be worse.” he said with a lopsided grin, both of them agreeing with the sentiment. He took a long sip of coffee, and across the house, the shower turned off. “Thank you, for letting me hide out here sometimes.”

“Glad you’re finally taking me up on my offer. Only took seventy years.” he replied. He didn’t exactly remember details from Mrs. Rogers’ funeral, but he remembered the feelings, and he remembered being annoyed that Steve was stubbornly staying in that tiny old apartment alone. 

“Yea well, you have to have some social life. You’re a fuckin’ hermit nowadays.” he said, his old Brooklyn accent lilting as he poked fun at his friend. Out of his Captain role, he could use as much colorful language as he desired. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I’ll have you know I socialized last week.” he replied. One of his goats was acting funny and he had to take her to the vet, but Steve didn’t need to know those details.

“With people?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes, smartass.” Bucky said. Technically only one person - the vet - but that was close enough. He’d smiled at a neighbor on the way back, that counted too. They had enough guests come around the house, he didn’t feel the need to go into the city often. And if he didn’t have to worry about the logistics and the traffic and the strangers, he didn’t want to. He was too old and too tired to do anything besides what he wanted. He pushed his chair away from the table, grabbing both empty coffee mugs in his one hand. “Go sleep, you look fucked up.”

“It always does wonders for my self esteem to visit you two.” Steve remarked, but he got up as well. Across the house, they could hear the sound of Mika’s shoes on the wood floor as she ran around the room getting ready. He offered to help with the dishes, but Bucky waved him away, allowing him to go to the guest room and happily pass out in the bed. Bucky went into his own room, admiring Mika’s shape for a brief moment as she pinned her wet hair up. He was still a little sour that they’d missed out on their morning activities, but figured he’d just have to get over it, and instead went to the closet to get clothing more suitable for his chores. On the bed, Luna laid as flat as possible, nothing but her eyes moving as they got ready, as if she was hoping they wouldn’t notice her where she wasn’t supposed to be.

“I’ll be home for supper.” Mika said, getting his attention with a hand on his shoulder. He smiled, letting her step closer and give him a kiss goodbye. He caught her around the waist then, pulling her in for one last kiss. 

“You better be. I still have a wager to repay.” he said against her lips, making her giggle. He still didn’t release her.

“And you’ll repay it in full, whenever Steve leaves.” she said, making him groan and tilt his head back.

“He’s an adult. He can handle it.” he said, and Mika looked shocked for a moment.

“He’s an adult with  _ super hearing. _ ” she pointed out. She never was much of an exhibitionist - at least not on purpose.

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet for once.” 

“And whose fault is it when I’m not?” she countered with a look. He rolled his eyes at her.

“I hate everything.” he muttered, making her laugh. 

“You’re rather salty for having your friend visit.” she teased, putting her arms around his neck. He let out a noise that resembled a growl.

“He needed to visit about thirty minutes later.” he replied shortly, and she grinned, giving him one last kiss.

“I’ll see you later.” she said, untangling from his arm and walking out of the bathroom. She gave Luna a kiss and scratched her ears before finally leaving for work. Bucky let out a long breath, once again rolling his eyes at the turn of events this morning, then finished getting dressed. He realized too little too late that he hadn’t gotten Mika to put his hair up for him before she left, which was going to make things that much more annoying. 

“C’mon, you’ve gotta work now.” he said to the dog, who stayed very still and pretended not to hear him. He tried to push her, but she was adamant in her position. He knelt down so they were eye to eye. “If you come work, I’ll let you sleep in the bed tonight.” 

As if she could understand him, she jumped off said bed, her claws clicking on the floor as she trotted over to the door. She didn’t need to know that he meant Steve’s bed, not his and Mika’s. He met her there, pulling on his boots and pausing one last moment to listen in the direction of the guest room. Steve was completely still, and he figured the man was asleep. Good. 

It was a mild supposedly winter day, the warm winds from the plains telling him that spring was right around the corner. The goats were lazy, and the cattle even moreso, but none so lackadaisical as his so-called working dog. She did her job for the morning, but by the afternoon she was under the tree with his three little buddies from across the way, leaving him to work the garden while the four of them watched. It would soon be time to change the crops for more summer varieties. When he started tilling the fresh earth, that’s when they decided to get involved, throwing clumps of dirt at each other and at him. He obliged them for a while, picking them up and tossing them so they landed on their feet on the soft dirt while they giggled and chased each other around. But soon they needed a distraction, and he made it until mid afternoon before sending the kids to the market with instructions to buy “whatever looks good,” and sending Luna with them as a guard. Only then was he actually able to get his work done.

He was in a considerably better mood by the time the kids returned with their spoils, three large baskets filled with vegetables and fruits. They were very excited to tell him about the friend they saw, and how the woman at the jewelry stand had pretty necklaces for “Birdie,” which is what they called Mika. He thanked them for the errand and the information, and sent them on their way home so they weren’t late for supper again. Luna, exhausted from her work and travels, sprawled out on the tile floor and made it very obvious that she would not be moving again for a very long time. Steve was still sound asleep, so he showered and made some more coffee, preparing everything he would need to make supper later while the hot drink brewed. With everything done, he took his cup and went to sit on the front porch, enjoying the breeze and the quiet and the slowly descending sun. 

An hour or so later, the front door opened, and Steve joined him on the porch swing, a box in his hands. “What’s that?” Bucky asked, eyeing it. He had his hypothesis, but didn’t want to get his hopes up. Steve smiled, nostalgic as he ran his hand over the cardboard box.

“Took me for-fucking-ever, but I finally tracked down the contents of your safe deposit box.” he said, sliding it over to him. The weight didn’t feel familiar, and his heart skipped a beat as he tried to remember what could be in it, besides the one thing he wanted to still be in there. Who knew how many people handled it before it got locked away with the SSR stuff? “Looking for something in particular?”

“Yep.” he said, not elaborating before settling the box on his lap before pulling the lid off of it. There were the usual things one might find in a safe deposit box in the 1940’s: the social security cards of his whole family, the birth certificates for him and his sister, the death certificates for his parents. There were a few things that Steve must have added after his supposed death, like his dog tags, the written death notification for his next of kin, and the flag that they draped over the empty casket at his funeral. He rummaged through the box to the very bottom, his fingers stopping as he felt crushed velvet. He pulled out the small box, the navy fabric flattened and faded from years of being smushed into the corner of the box.

“Oh ho ho, didn’t realize you were this serious, Buck.” Steve said, clapping him on the shoulder. 

“I’m always serious.” he remarked, only partially kidding. His focus was on the box in front of him, the hinges squealing in protest as he awkwardly pushed it open. His mother’s Edwardian engagement ring glittered from its depths, still sparkling impressively considering it hadn’t seen the sun in ages. Steve let out a low whistle, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin. It would need a bit of polishing, but it would do rather nicely, he thought.

“We need to celebrate.” Steve said, standing up quickly and forgetting for a moment that something was hurt on his leg. Bucky perked an eyebrow.

“But she hasn’t said yes yet. I haven’t even asked, officially.” he said. Steve ignored him, going back into the house. Bucky waited, curious, until he returned, a small flask in his hands. It was very ornately carved, and smaller than most flasks (at least the ones he often kept in his cargo pocket). He sighed. “I can’t get drunk.”

“Neither can I.” Steve said, though he did not sound sad at all. Instead, he sounded like he had a secret that he was very excited about. “Except with this. Full Asgardian liquor, aged in barrels for a millenia, and bartered off an old buddy named Hjalmar a hundred miles outside of Oslo.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Bucky asked, suspicious. Steve perked a challenging eyebrow, uncapping the flask and taking a long draught from it before handing it over.

“Trust me, buddy.” he said, gesturing with it once more. Bucky hesitated before plucking it from his fingers - after all, what’s the worst that could happen, poison? - and putting it to his lips. The liquor was surprisingly smooth for something aged for a thousand years, coating his throat and stomach with a buzzing warmth. Steve was smirking at him, waiting and trying hard not to laugh. His cheeks were already flushed red, just like they were kids sneaking pulls of whiskey from his dad’s liquor cabinet. “How long does it...oh.” He stopped as his body started buzzing, his mind ascending to the clouds with the familiar floating feeling of pleasant tipsiness. Steve started laughing then, great and booming, and soon Bucky was joining him, laughing in a way that he very rarely did after his escape. He went to take another drink, but Steve stopped him.

“No, no, trust me, it’s still going. Ya gotta savor it.” he drawled, gesturing with his hands. 

“Oh my God.” Bucky said, handing the flask back to Steve and figuring he could follow his lead on this. “I forgot what this was like. Holy  _ shit. _ ”

“I know, right?” Steve said, once again dissolving into laughter. “When’s the last time you got drunk, huh?”

“Uh…” Bucky’s memory was hazy even at the best of times, but now with  _ space liquor _ addling his brain, it was even more unreliable. “London, maybe? Before we went across the channel to go into Germany. They had this whiskey - they said it was Irish but there’s no way - it was awful, but it was cheap, and there was this girl that kept bringing it to me-”

“Ah, ah, careful, you don’t want Meeks to hear this bawdy talk.” Steve interjected. Bucky waved him off. 

“Oh, she’s got nothing on Mika. She was pretty, don’t get me wrong, but so soft. Mika is…” he leaned his head against the back of the swing, his mind going in seventeen different directions as he thought of all of her qualities.

“Spit it out, old man!” Steve exclaimed, punching him in the ribs for good measure. That jarred Bucky’s mind a little bit.

“Fucking brilliant.” he said, curtailing his words before he said anything too lascivious. Steve took another drink from the flask and handed it over so his partner could take one as well. The effects compounded, making his head swim in the best way. 

“This is the girl you wanna marry, and all you can give me is two words?” he asked, taking the flask back. “One of ‘em doesn’t even count!”   
  
“It does too!” Bucky said. The alcohol made him forget to hold his tongue now. “She’s so goddamn smart, smart as shit, and so snarky - I’d never met a woman who has a mouth on her like that.”

“Oh yea?” Steve asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Not like  _ that _ .” Bucky amended, though he thought of a few nights prior. “Well, also like that though.”

“Hot damn!” Steve said, laughing. “You always did talk too much when you were drunk.”

“And you were always bugging me for details cause you were too shy to get laid yourself.” Bucky retaliated. Steve looked affronted, but before he could respond, Bucky continued. “You know, you very much  _ did  _ interrupt something this morning. Tell me, are you still a virgin, or have you finally pulled the trigger? I need to know if you understand my pain.” 

“A man does not kiss and tell.” Steve said, though the back of his neck was turning red now that the tables were turned on him. Bucky howled with laughter.

“Bull  _ shit! _ ” he said, his voice going higher with the exclamation. “Fucking  _ finally _ . God, I thought I was gonna bury you as the chaste Catholic boy your ma thought you were after you died from celibacy.”

“You’re the worst.” he said, the blush creeping into his ears. Bucky shoved him, harder than he meant to but not harder than Steve could handle. 

“I’ve been waiting literal decades for this. Speak up, punk.” Bucky said. Steve sighed, relenting with little fight.

“She was...someone I worked with. Before all this.” he said, gesturing vaguely to the world around them. 

“And?” he asked, drawing the word out. They were silent for a minute before Steve started laughing.

“Fucking brilliant.” he parroted, leaning back further in the chair and stretching his leg out in front of him. Bucky smacked his arm again. 

“Did you do everything I told you to?” he asked, eyebrows raised as if this was the most important question he’d ever asked him. Steve gave him a devilish smirk.

“And then some.” he said, making Bucky laugh loudly.

“Atta  _ boy _ !” he said, making his counterpart let out a hiss of laughter. “Proud of you, kid.” 

“What are you two yelling about?” Mika asked, coming around the corner and surprising them. Both men clammed up, looking at her as innocently as possible. They were silent, both of them tense as they tried not to buckle under her gaze. 

“Nothing.” Steve said, his voice high and strained with smothered laughter. She lowered her eyebrows, looking between them and waiting for one to crack. Bucky let out a snort of laughter and tried to stifle it, but his break led to Steve’s armor cracking, and soon they were both cackling with laughter, holding their stomachs as tears formed in the corners of their eyes. Mika was caught somewhere between amused and appalled, having never seen either of them act this way before.

“Are you okay?” she asked, chuckling herself as she went to check Bucky’s forehead for a fever. His arm shot out, grabbing her waistband and pulling her onto his lap so he could nuzzle into her neck. She squeaked, her arms going around his shoulders as she tried to steady herself on the shifting porch swing.

“Fucking brilliant.” he said, causing another round of laughter between the two of them. Mika didn’t get the inside joke, but she still giggled. She spotted the flask in Steve’s hand and sat back, looking at their faces again.

“Are you two  _ drunk _ ?” she asked, her jaw dropped in shock. They both tried to be silent again, but it barely lasted before they gave in, nodding and giggling like two kids caught sneaking a drink. “Oh my God, I’ve never gotten to see you drunk.”

“He gets chatty,” Steve warned, “and also, I’m told, handsy.”

“That’s unreliable information!” Bucky admonished. “Well, not the chatty part. I do get damn chatty when I’ve had a couple.”

“Can confirm the handsy as well.” Mika said slyly, pulling his hand out of the waistband of her jeans and settling it onto her hip. 

“Told you.” Steve said, pointing at the offending hand, which was trying to creep back to its prior position. She grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers, preventing it from exploring further. He was suddenly aware of the weight of the ring in his pocket, but even his alcohol-addled brain knew it would be a bad idea to bring it out now. 

“Shut up.” Bucky said. “When Stevie’s drunk, he always used to whine about his bad luck with women. But now - now! - he’s finally lost his virginity!” 

“Buck!” Steve said, shoving him and turning the same shade as a tomato as Bucky threw his head back in laughter. Mika made a pretend proud face, her hands clutching her heart.

“Finally? Oh, Steve, I can’t believe it! Only took ninety-nine years-” she said, ganging up on him.

“It wasn’t recently, it was a couple years ago!” he interrupted, and Bucky’s mouth formed an ‘o’ at the admission.

“Oh shit, so boy’s got  _ experience _ by now!” he said, making Steve drop his head into his hands. He turned to Mika. “I taught him everything he knows.”

“Oh  _ did you _ now?” she asked, with a lot of implication for four short words. Both Steve and Bucky were quick to defend themselves.

“No! Not like that!” they said together, adding various forms of the same statement. Now it was her turn to laugh, letting them go on for longer than was necessary before holding up her hands and getting them to quiet down. 

“I play, I play. Not that I could judge either way.” she said with a shrug. Now that they were settled, she made herself a little more comfortable on her seat, leaning heavily against Bucky’s chest. “I feel like I need to catch up to you two.” 

“You do!” Steve said, brandishing the flask, but Bucky pushed it away with a scared look.

“No! It’ll kill her!” he whispered, sounding pained as he said it. Steve made a comically frightened face, looking down at the flask. 

“You’re right.” he said. He looked up again, an idea bright on his face. He pushed off the porch swing, stumbling lightly as the blood dropped from his head. “Sangria. I’ll get you sangria.”

“Good man!” Mika agreed as Steve went into the house. With a moment to themselves, Bucky burrowed into her neck again, holding her close and breathing in the scent of her skin. “And why exactly were you two drinking?”

“Celebrating.” he said shortly, pressing his lips together before he spilled out too many details. Her fingers were in his hair, lightly massaging his scalp and running through the long locks. 

“Celebrating what?” she asked lightly, wondering if he knew something she didn’t. He did, of course, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. He kissed her neck once before leaning up to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

“Life, my love.” he said lowly, sounding completely sober for a moment. She smiled back at him, brushing his hair away from his face so she could see his blue eyes.

“Good.” she replied. She still remembered the days when he didn’t celebrate life, when he thought himself a ghost waiting to disappear. But now he was here, with her. She adjusted her position again - something in his pocket was digging into her leg, and she moved so it wasn’t. “You’ve got a lot of life to celebrate.” 

“You’re right.” he said. Steve came back out then, an incredibly full glass of sangria in his hand. He gave it to Mika, then raised the flask in a toast.

“To love.” he said, an emotion flickering over his face so fast that neither of them could interpret it.

“To life.” Mika added, clinking her glass against the flask. Steve took a sip from it, then handed it to Bucky.

“To the Asgardians, and their amazing liquor.” he said with a grin, touching it to Mika’s glass again and taking a long drink. Mika followed his example, taking a few heavy gulps of the sangria, trying to catch up. The alcohol loosened their lips and their inhibitions, and she felt like she was getting a glimpse to the true Bucky, the way he’d been before all the horrible things that happened to him. He and Steve regaled her with embarrassing stories at each other’s expense, interrupting each other with commentary. They played Never Have I Ever (which neither Bucky nor Steve had played before) like a bunch of university students, Mika losing the game way faster than either of them. And just like in university, they were too lazy and drunk to cook by the time the hunger hit, and munched on the chopped veggies and fruits that Bucky had prepared earlier while Mika drunkenly baked something, following her heart instead of a recipe. They laughed, danced, messed around, and in general, had  _ fun _ . 

For one night, they weren’t two super soldiers and a woman mixed up in it all. They were just friends, celebrating life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i often forget to add these notes cause i'm still getting used to this platform (is it even normal for authors to add notes at the end anymore) but thank you thank you thank you to those who comment on this lil mess here!!! i adore hearing what y'all think, and i hope y'all liked this chapter!


	56. Four Little Words

The sky was just starting to lighten when Bucky woke up. He didn’t know exactly what had woken him, but then he heard the tell tale signs of Steve getting ready, Luna’s claws clicking on the floor as she followed his every move. He could barely get the dog to do the job she was trained for, but she lived for the mornings when Steve was here and would take her on a run. His leg must be feeling better, and Bucky assumed it had healed overnight, as his body used to do back in the day when he was dropped into war torn countries. Sometimes he still had dreams about it, the flashes blinding him even in his mind’s eye. The Soldier hadn’t turned away from the explosions, allowing his advanced healing to regenerate his retinas before going to complete the mission. Now, the brightest things Bucky had to deal with was the Wakanda sun and Mika’s smile. 

Speaking of, she looked radiant in the morning light, and as soon as the door closed behind Steve he rolled to her. She was laying on her side, her back to him, her breath even and unchanged as he gently reached up and gathered her hair in his hand, twisting it and moving it away from her neck. He kissed the newly exposed skin softly, trailing over to her shoulder as his hand slid over her waist, and she shifted and slowly started waking as he was trying to decide whether to move up under her shirt or down below her underwear.

“Good morning.” she murmured, shifting back until she was pressed against his chest. Her eyes were still closed, but she smirked as she felt his body. “Someone’s awake this morning.”

“Physiology. Can’t help it.” he responded, then paused, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. Had he lived this moment before? No, no he’d dreamt it. It was so long ago that he felt like it was another lifetime completely. He let the thought go, deciding to revisit it later, as his hand traveled under her shirt to tease her. 

“Bucky…” she warned, though her sharp intake of breath only pushed her chest further into his hand. He began kissing her neck again, the act sending shivers down her spine. She arched her back ever so slightly, pushing against him just enough to make him groan into her hair.

“Steve’s gone on a run.” he said, nipping and pinching just enough to make her squirm. She bit her lip, stifling a whine. He could feel her pulse rising, her heart thumping under his wrist. 

“He could be back any minute.” she replied, though she still made no move to stop his motions. He removed his hand from her chest, sliding it down her stomach with a touch so light that it made goosebumps appear down her arms. Soon, it reached the hem of her underwear, and then casually slipped beneath it.

“Better be quick then, hm?” he asked as she bit her pillow, her hair uncurling from the twist he’d put it into earlier. She wanted to respond, but he was distracting her with his ministrations between her legs. He wanted to make a quip about the payment he owed her after their wager yesterday, but all he cared about at the moment was the warmth of her skin and making more curses fall from her lips. He sat up enough to pull her underwear off, pushing her onto her stomach and situating himself between her knees. She adjusted her position with practiced ease, gasping as his arm supported her under her pelvis and he finally joined them. 

With her face in the pillow, she was allowed to be as loud as she wanted as he made love to her in the early morning light, the sun finally peeking over the horizon as their movements slowed and their labored breathing began to even. Bucky rolled over onto his back, freeing her so that she could visit the washroom and freshen up, tossing a grin over her shoulder before she closed the door. He put his hand behind his head, basking in the feeling of so much  _ goodness _ before they’d even gotten out of bed. Mika came back out a few moments later, choosing to squeeze back into bed on his other side to avoid where she’d just been laying. He laughed, saying he’d wash their sheets today as he tucked her in close to him. 

They were quiet, laying in the afterglow and soaking up the early morning silence and the beats of each others’ hearts. Out of all the good things he had nowadays, this right here was his most favorite. He pressed his lips to her head and was just wondering if she’d fallen back asleep when she shifted, looking up at him as if he’d just asked a question. For the first time in a long time, he wondered if she could read minds.

“What are you thinking?” she asked. Either she was a phenomenal actress, or he could finally lay the errant thought about telepathy to rest. He looked down at her for a moment, committing her face to memory before finally speaking.

“What do you think about getting married?” he asked, surprising even himself as the question came out of his mouth. His tone was light, curious, as if he’d just asked what she wanted for breakfast or if she wanted to go to the market that day. She raised her eyebrows, one corner of her mouth lifting in a way that told him she was trying to suppress a smile.

“Is that a proposal?” she asked wryly, trying to contain her excitement even though he could feel every muscle in body tensing in anticipation.

“Not an official one. A man’s got to have a ring for that.” he said, equivocating the fact that he did, actually, have a ring tucked away in the drawer. “Just a curiosity question.” 

“Married or not, as long as I’m with you, I’m happy.” she said after a breath. 

“And what’s your real answer?” he asked, recognizing  _ her _ equivocation. She blushed at his direct question.

“I’d love to marry you.” she admitted, perking up then and giving him a challenging look. “But I can’t very well say yes if it isn’t official, right?” 

“You’re absolutely right.” he replied. He thought of just doing it then, of getting up and digging into his drawer and pulling out his mother’s ring, even if he hadn’t gotten it cleaned up yet. He was ready to drop to one knee and ask her to be with him forever, to love him despite all the shit and the pain that he’d been through. He didn’t deserve her, but she still wanted him, and he wanted nothing else in this world except for a quiet life with her. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the front door opening, Steve’s heavy steps and Luna’s loud panting echoing through the house.

“Get your asses out of bed, I’m making breakfast as soon as I shower!” Steve called from across the house, making Mika and Bucky sigh.

“He needs to start giving us twenty-four hour notice before he visits.” Mika commented, reluctantly removing herself from the warmth of his embrace.

“I agree.” he deadpanned, his body cold from where she’d just vacated. He sighed, giving up and getting out of bed, joining Mika in the shower as they washed off the morning and made themselves presentable for the day. Steve had everything set up when they finally emerged, giving them a grin as they joined him at the kitchen table. 

“Good run?” Mika asked, digging into the eggs he’d made and discovering that she was really hungry. Steve nodded.

“It’s perfect weather around here. Makes it easy to get going.” he replied, and she thought that he did look very relaxed for once. 

“Used to he couldn’t go up a flight of stairs without getting winded.” Bucky said, stopping for a second as he finished his sentence. He didn’t know when he’d remembered that fact; perhaps it had been just now. Steve let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head.

“Well that’s what happens when you treat asthma with cigarettes.” he replied, and Mika nearly choked on her eggs.

“What?!” she exclaimed, making both men laugh.

“The ‘40’s were a different time, Meeks.” Steve said by way of explanation, as if that were all that she needed to understand.

“I guess so.” she agreed, accepting this as fact and moving on. They were halfway through eating when she realized what time it was, and started shoveling food into her mouth as she walked her plate slowly to the sink, explaining with her mouth full and partially in Romanian that she was about to be late to Shuri’s lab - again. Steve laughed and Bucky rolled his eyes; Mika wasn’t chronically late, but she did tend to be just barely on time. She ran to the bedroom, quickly changing into a long tunic dress and shoes, and kissed both men on the cheek before bolting out the door.

“So, what’s on the docket for the day? Are you gonna help me with chores?” Bucky asked, settling into his chair and sipping on his coffee. Steve scoffed.

“Absolutely not.” he said. “I, uh, actually got a text from Nat this morning. She wants me to meet her and Sam in Kazakhstan.” 

“Of course she does.” Bucky remarked, making Steve give him a half hearted grin. Bucky thought about when he first got out, first walked away from his handlers. He hadn’t known what to do, and figured he could either throw himself into something familiar (killing people) or retreat into the shadows. Steve had the same choice now too, either to immerse himself in war again or to let it all go. While Bucky had chosen the latter, his counterpart was obviously choosing the former. “Be honest, are you okay?”

“Yea, everything healed up just fine overnight. Another thank you to Howard Stark.” he answered, toasting the man’s memory and making Bucky roll his eyes. 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” he said lowly. Steve sighed, spinning his empty coffee mug and not meeting his eyes. “Listen, I’m gonna need a best man in a few months. So try not to get yourself killed between now and then, alright?” 

Steve looked up then, a half grin forming on his face. “You got it.” he said, a slight change evident in his demeanor. He sat up, gathering his dishes before getting up and taking them to the sink. “Thank you for the hospitality, as always. I’ll be back…” he left it hanging, not knowing when he would return. Bucky almost laughed, remembering his conversation with Mika this morning.

“We’ll be here.” he said, deciding not to put limitations on him. He knew what it was like, to be adrift in the world, looking for a mission and having no place to call home. He may joke about how inconvenient Steve’s unannounced visits were, but in reality it made him feel good to provide a home base for him. Everyone needed a place to go. Steve packed up his stuff as Bucky got ready for the day, and they exchanged succinct and manly goodbyes before he drove back towards the palace, where he’d likely parked his borrowed aircraft. 

Bucky went through his morning chores as efficiently as possible, knowing that he had an errand to run later before Mika got home. The kids stopped by in the afternoon, but Bucky sent them home as soon as he was finished with his work, choosing instead to change out of his sweaty work clothes, grab the velvet box from his drawer, and go into town. 

The market was busy, as it always was, instantly reminding Bucky why he avoided it. But this was something that he couldn’t trust anyone else with, and he would gladly make the sacrifice. He smiled at the few people who knew him, nodding at the sellers that really knew Mika and only associated him with her. He wound through the streets, barely touching anyone as he worked his way to the little jeweler close to the heart of the market.

“White Wolf!” the older woman greeted as he ducked into her shop. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the nickname the kids had given him. He didn’t like it at first, knowing it came from his screams as his brain reorganized itself, but now he didn’t mind it so much. He’d had many nicknames over the years - Bucky, Soldat, Asset - so it was just another one to add to the list. At least this one was a term of endearment. 

“Hello, Yoni.” he said. Though they’d never actually purchased anything from the woman, she still said hello to them any time they were around the shop. Apparently she always noticed new faced; granted, Mika and Bucky were a little easier to pick out from the crowd. 

“Are you finally here to buy something, hm? Something small, something special?” she crooned, meaning lacing her words. He pulled the box from his pocket, handing it over to her for inspection.

“I’m afraid I’ve already got something of that nature.” he responded as she cracked open the old box. His eyes drifted over the other jewelry glittering in her case; perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get her something else to match. What was that old rhyme about weddings and good luck? Something old, something new, something borrowed-

“My, look at this!” she exclaimed, plucking the ring from its home. Yoni was not a small woman, but she handled the ring with unexpected delicacy. Bucky could see a line across the metal from where it was pressed into the velvet for so long, and he hoped she would be able to remove it.

“It was my mother’s.” he said, not taking his eyes off the ring. He wanted to trust her, but that was not in his nature, and hadn’t been in a long time. She smiled at him.

“And you want to give it to Birdie.” she said, using the nickname the kids had for her. He wondered if she knew their real names, or only the nicknames. He nodded, and she clicked her tongue in a tutting manner. “Well, it needs to shine like the stars, hm? It’s very pretty, but it needs a good cleaning.”

“That’s why I’m here. I knew you were the one to go to.” he said. In fact, there were three other jewelers in the market, but the kids loved Yoni, and so he decided she was the most reliable one. She nodded, her face glowing with pride as she smiled at him. 

“Let me see what I can do. Feel free to peruse.” she said, gesturing to the displays as she went into the back room. Bucky didn’t like not having her or the ring within eyesight, but tried to swallow the discomfort down. There was no reason to suspect her of anything nefarious, and if all else failed, he could track her down and demand retribution. And so he browsed, keeping a weather ear out for any odd sounds from the back room. The sparkling rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets in the case threatened to overwhelm his senses, but he carefully looked over each one, if only to give himself something to do while she worked. 

He paused over a set of earrings. A small, iridescent stone sat in the middle, surrounded by clear white sapphires, exquisitely arranged like two little suns shining from the case. Mika never really asked for anything, but he remembered that she used to change her jewelry quite often in Bucharest, based on her outfit or her mood. Since they’d been forced to leave quite abruptly, she only had the earrings she was wearing the night before they left. Yes, she needed something new.

It was a long time before Yoni reemerged, longer than Bucky anticipated, but she had a brilliant smile on her face as she spotted him. His mother’s ring was cupped in her hand as if she held a fragile baby bird, and even from there he could see the difference in its shine. She had somehow managed to meticulously scrub off nearly one hundred years worth of wear, leaving nothing but a perfect ring. 

“Just like the day it was made!” she said happily, presenting it to him. He took it, surprised at its perfection, and scrutinized it carefully. It really was nearly flawless, better than he’d ever seen it.

“Thank you, Yoni. It’s perfect.” he breathed. “How much do I owe you?”

“For that? Nothing. Call it a wedding present.” she said with a smile. He grinned at her, then found the earrings he’d been admiring previously.

“Well, thank you for that. But I’m sure you’ll want something in exchange for those.” he said, pointing them out to her. She looked down her nose at the case, her smile widening as she figured out which earrings he was pointing at.

“Ah, yes. I’m afraid I can’t give you those for free.” she agreed. He smiled, tucking the ring back into its case as she packed up his purchase. He paid, thanked her again, and went on his way with one more box than he went in with. 

Now, he was met with his real problem: how to propose.

A million different ideas ran through his head. Back in the day, it was easy; it wasn’t usually a grand gesture, unless you were rich. Most of the men he knew in the Army either got married quick before they deployed, or had a shotgun wedding in the few weeks of leave with girls they’d left behind. But Mika deserved better than that. 

Should he invite everyone over? Her friends, her family, everyone they knew? Or would that be too much? Something quiet, over supper? Or just the two of them, at the top of the palace, overlooking the city? Even if they’d only had the conversation this morning, and he’d only had the ring for a day, he wanted to give it to her immediately. The longer he waited, the more he felt like it was going to burn him up inside. 

He continued his train of thought as he started making supper, pulling together her favorite dish that he used to make back in Romania. It was hard to find similar ingredients here, so the more traditional food that she grew up with was a rarity, but he felt like making it tonight. He was just finishing up when Mika got home, and the smile on her face as she smelled what he was cooking made the extra work worth it. 

“What’s all this for?” she asked, coming into the kitchen and kissing his cheek. She dumped her purse on the kitchen island and looked over the dishes, humming appreciatively.

“Just felt like doing something special.” he replied. She pressed another kiss to his cheek before going to change into something more comfortable and sitting down to supper. The conversation was light, easy, and she told him about the silly things Shuri said and the big advancement she’d made in her code. It took her a few months and more than a few late nights studying, but she managed to learn a completely new coding language to be able to really work in Shuri’s lab. He tried not to think about the ring, hoping he could give her the earrings and that would satiate him for the time being. 

By the time twilight settled in, they were on the front porch swing, empty wine glasses on the side table and Mika tucked under his arm as they watched the orange sky fade to blue and purple. He used one leg to idly push the swing back and forth, the motion just enough to lull them into relaxation. For the second time that day, he felt totally and utterly content. That’s when he remembered her words from that morning, and realized that they didn’t need anything big or fantastical for their engagement. They only needed each other. 

“I’ve got something for you.” he said, breaking the silence. She sat up as he moved, her brows raising.

“Oh yea?” she asked, curious. He rarely gave gifts; it just wasn’t his love language. He smiled and nodded, and went back inside without another word. She assumed she was supposed to wait there, idly swinging the bench as she waited for him to return. It felt much longer than it should take to go grab something, but he’d had to stare at the two jewelry boxes for a few minutes before deciding yes, this was the right decision. He needed to follow his gut.

He tucked the box into his hand, hoping to hide it from view as he went back out onto the porch. God, she looked beautiful in the evening light. She looked up at him expectantly, eyeing his hands and trying to see what he was hiding. Instead of settling back next to her on the porch swing, he sunk to one knee, finally revealing the box in his hand. Her hands flew to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes, but for once she was speechless.

“I know we only talked about it this morning,” he started, his voice soft but sure. “But I spent months denying my feelings for you, before. Months that we could have spent together. And before that I was always drifting, not caring what happened or how much time passed.” He cleared his throat, garnering his courage. He wanted to say more, to talk about how she dragged him from that abyss, about how he couldn’t believe she saw what little of him was left and loved him anyway. He wanted to tell her how he’d resigned himself to a loveless, meaningless life, trying to atone for everything wrong that he’d done. But that felt like it would take too long. This proposal was not about his past; it was about their future. They’d had enough conversations about his time with Hydra. “I love you. And I’m tired of wasting time. Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Of course!” she said, the words out of her mouth the instant he finished asking. She didn’t give him time to stand up or put the ring on her finger, sliding off the swing and into his waiting embrace. She squeezed him tightly before giving him four kisses in quick succession, unable to keep the smile off her face. Once her physical quota was met, she put just enough space between them for him to gently slip the ring onto her finger, the diamonds turning blue in the evening light. She gasped softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“It...was my mother’s.” he admitted, and the tears that had been on the edge the whole time finally spilled onto her cheeks. He wiped them away tenderly.

“Do you…” her voice was raspy with emotion, and she paused to clear her throat, though when she spoke again her voice wasn’t that much clearer. “Do you think she would have liked me?”

“I think she would have loved you.” he replied immediately. His mother would have thought Mika brash, and strong willed, and adorable. She would have thought her a perfect match for her son. “Almost as much as I do.”

She kissed him again then, the metal of the ring cool against his cheek as she held his face. He clutched her to him, kissing her for just a second longer. Every moment was precious, and it was about damn time he started acting like it.


	57. Smile

Mika woke up to pain as three hairs were ripped from her head, caught in the setting of her wonderful, beautiful, elegant new ring. She hissed and rubbed the offended spot on her scalp before carefully removing the hairs from between the diamonds; perhaps it wasn’t advisable to wear it while sleeping. As the pain receded, she couldn’t help but smile, looking at the way it sparkled on her finger even in the sparse light from the moon peeking in through the blinds. She glanced at Bucky, still asleep beside her, his face neutral and relaxed. Good, he wasn’t having a dream then. The nightmares didn’t come as often anymore, and he no longer grabbed her in his sleep (granted, he was short one arm, but that was beside the point), but sometimes she still woke to hear him mumbling in his sleep, a grimace of pain from long ago on his face. That’s when she would smooth his hair and murmur his name, gently pulling him from sleep before the nightmare could take its hold. He always looked a little confused when he awoke, remembering who and where he was, but as his eyes focused on her face he would smile, and kiss her, and tell her he loved her before they both went back to sleep. 

When she woke up at a normal time later, she was still smiling, the ring on her nightstand (removed to prevent further injury) glittering happily at her. She slipped it on and rolled over to find an empty bed, her heart pulsing for a moment before she heard the sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen, the smell of something delicious meeting her a few moments later. She got up and followed the scent, finding Bucky carefully tending a skillet of shakshuka, the herbs and spices mingling happily in the air as the tomatoes simmered. He was shirtless, finally not self conscious about the smooth stump where his left arm used to be, and Mika thought the sight of him in just his boxer briefs and making breakfast was possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. She stepped up behind him, his head turning ever so slightly to show that he heard her coming, and slid her arms around his waist.

“Good morning.” he murmured, leaning back just slightly into her embrace. She held him tighter, kissing his shoulder lightly.

“Good morning.” she replied, resting her cheek against him. “This looks amazing.” 

“Gotta earn my worth. You can’t have a lazy husband.” he said, making her laugh as she kissed his cheek. She gave him one last squeeze before going to cut some bread for them, watching from the corner of her eye as he used one hand to crack eggs into the skillet.

“Hmm, I like that.” she said, taking the bread to the table before going back to run the coffee machine. Once it was all ready, they took everything to the table and sat, prepared to enjoy a quiet breakfast.

“What, me earning my worth?” he asked, grinning at her over his coffee. She stood up again, coming to sit on his lap.

“No, thinking of you as  _ my husband _ .” she said, the word alone enough to make butterflies awaken in her stomach. She put her hands on his cheeks, bringing him in for a slow kiss as his arm circled around her waist. He grinned when she pulled away.

“Have you called your sister yet?” he asked, making her grow still. Wow, she was a horrible sister for not calling her last night, especially with news such as this. She groaned, closing her eyes and basking in her awfulness for a few seconds before getting up and getting their tablet.

“We can call her right now.” she said, settling back on his knees and tapping away at the screen. Bucky sighed, taking one last sad look at their breakfast before slipping the cover back over the skillet. He loved his soon to be sister-in-law, and loved chatting with her, but no necessarily when there was food waiting for him. 

Luckily, Nicoletta picked up on the second ring, smiling brightly and singing a hello. She was in her art room, her apron already covered in paint stains and her fingertips like ten little paintings of their own. A blue smudge was on her cheek, though neither of them thought she was aware of it.

“You’re up early.” Mika remarked, though really the hour was just early for Nicoletta, not for most working people. She hadn’t realized what time it was in Berlin until the call was already ringing, but she wasn’t sorry about it.

“I was up all night.” she said lightly, as if it were a common occurrence. Which, in the life of some artists, it was. She clumsily turned the tablet to show a large painting of two bodies locked in an embrace, their legs intertwining into roots and their hair and arms spreading into branches. It was incredibly detailed, though they didn’t recognize the models.

“Holy shit.” Bucky said, his brows furrowed as he analyzed the painting. “That’s beautiful.”

“Thank you!” she said, her blush evident even over video chat. She set her tablet down onto her desk, settling onto her chair. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of such a wonderful early morning chat?”

“We just had some news we wanted to share.” Mika said, not giving her any time to respond before holding up her hand to show her new jewelry. Nicoletta screamed appreciatively, her face moving comically close to the camera so she could see it better. 

“Holy fuck, it’s beautiful! Congratulations!” she said, her smile wide. “Fucking finally, I’m so happy, oh my God. Have you set a date yet? Will you be home…” she trailed off then, remembering exactly why they were so far away to begin with.

“We’ll get it all figured out, don’t worry.” Mika said. “We won’t do anything without you.”

“Damn right you won’t.” she said, trying to be serious before erupting into squeals again. “This is amazing. Oh, Mika! Bucky! Now I can officially call you brother-in-law.”

“Not quite yet.” he said. She waved off the technicality.

“Have you told mum yet?” she asked, directing her question at Mika. She didn’t answer right away, tapping her leg nervously. Bucky laid a hand on her, stilling her, giving her comfort.

“Not yet. I uh, didn’t figure she’d care.” she said. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in over a year; she’d called to give her an update, to try and explain what had happened, to let her know that everyone was okay. What she’d gotten was a lecture about dating the wrong people, and how-dare-you-bring-your-sister-into-it, and I-raised-you-better-than-this, and “your father and sister would be so disappointed in you”. Mika had tried to call her a few times since then to try and smooth things over, but her mother never picked up. Bucky squeezed her hand again, and Nicoletta cleared her throat nervously.

“Well, I’ll talk to her, see if I can’t get her to see the light.” she said, feigning confidence. Mika gave a dry laugh that failed to sound humorous. She was always on thin ice with her mother, and she wasn’t sure even Nicoletta’s magical youngest daughter powers would be enough this time.

“Good luck.” she deadpanned. Nicoletta opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by sounds from the kitchen, and a male voice asking if she wanted coffee. She hastily moved the screen before they could see who it was, causing both of them to smirk.

“Sounds like you need to go.” Bucky said, unable to hide his amusement. Nicoletta blushed again.

“Let me know as soon as you set a date, okay?” she said. They agreed and said their goodbyes, the video cutting off rapidly. Mika laughed, getting up and going back to her own seat so they could resume their breakfast. 

“Speaking of which,” Bucky started, finally spooning eggs and vegetables onto his plate. Thank goodness, they were still warm. “How does one go about getting married in Wakanda?”

She paused, hand outstretched towards the skillet. “I don’t know.” she finally admitted, her brows furrowed. They’d had a lot of life experiences over the past year, but no weddings as of yet. “I’ll ask Okoye or T’Challa, whomever I see first.”

“This hardly seems like a matter to concern the King with.” Bucky said, resuming his meal.

“True, but I can’t very well ask Shuri or Kanoni, because then they’ll blow the entire thing out of proportion. I need someone who won’t freak out when I ask.” she explained. She loved the girls dearly, but she knew Bucky would want to keep things low key, and if she was honest, she did too. 

“What, you don’t want a massive wedding with the entire country invited?” he asked, his tone teasing even though his eyes were serious. If that’s what she wanted, he would find a way to give it to her. She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“Not really, no.” she said, her answer surprising him. He remembered how excited she’d been at Jonas and Maria’s wedding, a lifetime ago. Didn’t all women want that?

“Really?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. He also remembered the night of her birthday party at the pub, how she basked in the attention and spent the whole night dancing and laughing. Wouldn’t she want the same for a wedding?

“Really.” she said with a shrug. “I love  _ going _ to big weddings, don’t get me wrong, but for my own...I don’t know, I always envisioned something small, intimate. Plus any time you tack the word ‘wedding’ onto something it becomes four times as expensive.” 

“A good point.” he conceded. He couldn’t deny his surprise at her admission, or the relief that flooded through him. Though he’d come a long way healing the damage done during his time with Hydra, he didn’t think he was strong enough to stand in front of a crowd of people and be the center of attention, even if it was to marry the girl of his dreams. “So, just a few people then?”

“Yea, maybe just family...nothing massive. As long as you’re there.” she said with a grin, reaching out to tangle her fingers with his. He idly played with the ring on her finger, and could tell he was smiling like a fool. He didn’t care. “Sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect.” he said. She nodded, taking her hand away so she could finish her breakfast before getting ready and going in to the city center. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face for the entire way there, trying to tone it down as she entered the building. She wouldn’t deny anything if Shuri spotted the ring on her finger, but she wanted to have a plan finalized before Shuri could make a big deal out of it...even if it  _ was _ kind of a big deal. 

Luckily, she didn’t have to hide for long, as the King was already present in the lab when she arrived, deep into a discussion with his sister about new advances she’d made on his suit. She tucked her hands into her pockets for some reason, suddenly shy about her engagement, wanting to stay in their little happy bubble for just a moment longer. She didn’t think she’d run into T’Challa this soon, but she hesitantly admitted to herself that she might have to take advantage of it. 

“Good morning!” Shuri sang as Mika put her purse down at her desk. She immediately came over, grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her back to where the siblings were previously stationed. “Can you  _ please _ tell my brother that he needs to upgrade his suit for automatic movements in the case of injury?”

“I don’t think I have a right to tell your brother anything.” she said, smirking at T’Challa. He grinned in return, though that quickly changed as Shuri smacked both of them in the arm. 

“It’s an important safety feature!” she exclaimed, affronted. 

“Shuri, that technology would be better suited in medicine and rehabilitation, not in my suit.” T’Challa pointed out. Mika had to agree; the things that she’d seen workshopped and made for the medical bay were beyond incredible, and those were the moments she was gladdest that they were now sharing their advancements with the world.

Shuri, however, was unamused. She rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s already used there, how do you think I developed it in the first place?” 

“The suit works fine. Use these things to help others, don’t worry about me.” he said. Wrong thing to say.

“Just because it works doesn’t mean it can’t be improved!” she said, stomping her foot for good measure. Mika stood quietly off to the side, knowing that this was not a time for her to intervene. She knew why Shuri was so concerned - she’d admitted, late one night when it was just the two of them in the lab, that she still had nightmares about T’Challa’s near death experience. And she coped with it by working. “Someone has to protect you, brother, since you sometimes forget to do it yourself!”

T’Challa was quiet then, and Mika thought he finally understood. He nodded, pulling the necklace off and handing it to her. “You’re right. Please, adjust it as you see fit.” he conceded. Shuri was shocked for a moment, her emotions rollercoastering in a way that only happens when you’re seventeen years old. For a moment, she thought the Princess was going to cry, or hug her brother, but instead she just bounced back, smirking in triumph.

“When will you learn that I am always right?” she asked rhetorically, taking the necklace from him and laying it on the table. She didn’t turn around as she said, “That will be all, I will see you later!” 

T’Challa rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help a good natured grin at the back of Shuri’s head. He nodded once to Mika before turning on his heel and striding towards the door. Mika froze; this was it, this was the only time that she knew for sure she could have a moment of the King’s time without making things painfully obvious. But she was suddenly filled with nerves, though she couldn’t quite understand why. He’d just turned the corner out of the lab before she took off after him, sparing one quick glance to make sure his sister was still occupied.

“Your Highness!” she whispered fervently as she caught up to him in the hall. T’Challa stopped, turning to her with a confused look on his face.

“Is there a reason we’re whispering?” he murmured, looking towards the lab. Mika felt her face heat up, and tried to swallow back the chagrin.

“I just...wanted to talk to you, if you have a moment.” she said, in a slightly more normal but still subdued tone. “I just don’t want Shuri to hear...yet.”

That piqued his interest, and he smiled in a brotherly way. “Do you have some exciting news to share?” he asked, glancing none-too-subtly at her abdomen before returning his eyes to hers. Mika balked at the insinuation, immediately covering her stomach with her hands.

“No, not that.” she said immediately, though now that he mentioned it...she wouldn’t hate it if that was the case. But that was beside the point. “Something far less exciting, I’m afraid.”

“Do tell.” he said, his face smoothing to his kingly mask. Mika took a breath, wringing her hands in an effort not to chip at her nail polish in front of the King. The King who happened to be a dear friend of hers. The King who’d saved her, given her a place to live, a place to work. The nerves melted away - why should she be anxious about this? He would no doubt be happy about it. 

Though this definitely was not something high on his list of priorities. That was probably why she was so hesitant to ask. “I just was curious about, um...how one goes about getting married, in Wakanda.” she said. For a moment, she could almost feel the words hanging between them, see as T’Challa heard them. His eyes widened, and then flicked down again, this time noticing the sparkle on her hand. Then, he smiled widely and pulled her into a hug.

“Congratulations.” he said, a little too loudly. Mika shushed him and pulled back, remembering a little too late that she probably shouldn’t shush a King. He furrowed his brows, taking no offense at her actions, and instead just asking, “Why must this be a secret?”

“We just...don’t want to make a big thing of it. Wanted to keep it small and quiet.” she explained. “You know Bucky.”

“I do indeed.” T’Challa agreed. He still smiled, but any excitement he felt was hidden now. “Well, normally, the leader of the tribe would preside over the union, but since you two aren’t natives of this land...I guess I’ll just have to officiate it myself.” 

“Oh no, we couldn’t ask-” she tried to be polite, not wanting to take up any of his free time. He was a King after all, and had much more important things to do than wed them. But he held up his hand, effectively silencing her.

“Nonsense. It would be my honor.” he said, and the way he spoke made Mika feel like he was being perfectly honest. She bit her lip, trying not to get emotional over this and failing miserably.

“Thank you.” she said quietly, wondering if it would be inappropriate to hug him again.

“Of course, there is a matter of the witnesses. And the party afterwards. I’m assuming you don’t want the entirety of the country involved?” he asked with a smirk. Mika’s heart plummeted to her shoes at the thought of so many people witnessing such an intimate moment, even though the look on his face said he was kidding.

“What’s the bare minimum we could get away with?” she asked, making him laugh and shake his head.

“Two, besides yourselves. For the sake of the paperwork.” he replied, and she felt a certain sense of relief. So they could have Steve, and Nicoletta. Though depending on Steve’s current engagements (pun completely intended), it could be weeks or even months before he was able to return to Wakanda. And Mika, for one, did not want to wait that long. What was it that Bucky had said?  _ I’m tired of wasting time _ . But did she dare risking the wrath of her sister or her friend due to her impatience?

“So, hypothetically, when could this happen?” she said. It’s not like they needed a ton of time to plan; she could buy a new dress at the market, and she and Bucky could host their witnesses for a celebratory supper afterwards. T’Challa raised his eyebrows.

“As soon as you like. Don’t you want to make some preparations?” he asked. “I’ve been told weddings are big events that take months worth of planning.”

Something in his tone made Mika burn with curiosity. “Oh yea? And who told you that?” she asked, unable to keep the teasing out of her voice. 

“Literally every woman in my life.” he replied, laughing. Mika smiled, not doubting for a second that the statement was true.

“Well, though I do love a big celebration, I don’t really care to host one.” she explained. “We just want to be married, we don’t need something huge.”

“Yes you do!” came a voice, and Mika immediately grimaced as she recognized Shuri’s sharp tones. She turned slowly to find the girl looking quite irate, marching towards them with the fury of a teenager not invited to an outing. “I can’t believe you would consult my brother before me on a matter such as this!” 

“Because it’s not a big deal, I didn’t want to bother-” Mika tried to come up with any excuse that would placate her, but knew that nothing would work.

“‘I don’t want to bother’!” she said, dramatically imitating her before crossing her arms over her chest and glaring. “When are you going to learn that you are not a bother? And also, this is  _ completely _ a big deal. You can’t just have a paperwork wedding, you need a real wedding!”

“Absolutely not.” Mika said, though she couldn’t deny that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst idea. As long as it was  _ small _ . Shuri pouted, and between her big, brown eyes and trembling lower lip, she actually managed to make Mika feel a little guilty despite her years of living with Nicoletta. 

“Nothing big,” Shuri assured her. Mika looked to T’Challa for help, but he held his hands up in resignation. Even the King wasn’t immune to her powers. “But I...I want to be...I mean, I would like to be there too. I thought we were good enough friends for that.” 

Mika paused at that, suddenly feeling  _ entirely _ guilty. The Princess had a point. Briefly, she thought that maybe she could have Shuri be one of the witnesses, but then realized that Nicoletta would manage to find Wakanda, get past the walls, and kill her. “I’ll talk to Bucky about it.” she said, though she knew she would be able to convince him to change their plans.

That was enough to placate her - at least for now. She clapped her hands excitedly. “I can’t wait! We have to begin planning right away-”

“Shuri…” T’Challa said with a warning, forcing her to take a deep breath and try to quell her excitement.

“Right, yes,” she said, pretending to be much more grown up than she was. “Consult with Bucky first. And we’ll go from there.” she continued, though everyone present knew she would do no such thing.

“I’m going to take my leave now.” T’Challa said, as if he didn’t believe that his sister was capable of staying calm in this situation. He waved, ignoring the pleading look that Mika sent towards him, hoping he could stay and keep his sister on task. Instead he simply turned and went back to doing whatever Kings do, leaving Mika to fend for herself.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” she said, linking their elbows and taking her back to the lab, chattering about all the best wedding traditions for the different tribes around the country. According to Shuri, since they didn’t belong to a specific tribe, they could choose whatever pieces they wanted. Then of course she remembered that Mika and Bucky weren’t from Wakanda, and started asking about any and every wedding tradition from Romania. It was a whole hour before Mika could get her to calm down and focus on their work, saying that there were more important things for them to worry about today.

And yet, she couldn’t keep the grin from her face for the entire day, couldn’t help stopping every so often to admire the ring on her finger as it shone in the lights of the lab. It was silly and girly, she knew, but if there was ever a time to be silly and girly, it was the day after getting engaged. The day seemed to float by, and she found that Shuri’s giddiness was contagious, making it difficult to focus on their projects. She finally gave up a few hours into the afternoon, deciding that was enough work for the day, and that she wanted to go home and celebrate her engagement, instead of just thinking about it nonstop. Any coding she had left to do could wait for tomorrow.

She thought of what Nicoletta asked her that morning, and considered calling her mother on the drive home. After all, she did deserve to know if her daughter was getting married, right? She picked up the phone, even getting so far as to dialing the number, but stopped before starting the call. She loved her mother, no matter how much they argued or how differently they viewed things. And it hurt that she’d cut her off so swiftly and completely, choosing to listen to news outlets over her own daughter. She desperately wanted to repair things between them, but she couldn’t very well do that if she never picked up her calls. 

With a sigh, she pressed the call button, holding it to her ear as it started ringing. It rang once, twice, three times, before a click interrupted it. She held her breath, waiting to hear her mother’s voice.

“I’m sorry, the person you have dialed is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.” The automated voice felt cold and impersonal, and Mika deflated again. The answering machine beeped, and she took a deep breath before leaving another message.

“Hi mum, it’s me. Mika.” she said, as if their mother would need clarification. “I just wanted to call and tell you that, um...Bucky and I are engaged. I don’t know any details yet but...I wanted to tell you, and see if maybe you wanted to…” she trailed off again, trying to bolster her confidence. “Just call me back, okay? Love you.”

With that, she hung up, taking a moment to feel sorry for herself before shaking off the phone call. If her mother wanted to be that way, that was fine. But Mika was not going to let her ruin this good day. Bucky was out on the front porch when she arrived at home, the kids running around with Luna in the front yard.

Life was good, and she was going to focus on that.


	58. Weddings, Pt I

Wedding planning, turns out, was much easier than Mika anticipated.

Granted, that was because she had no resources besides the few friends she’d made, and Shuri had taken it upon herself to make sure that even if this wedding was small, it was going to be perfect. Mika was afraid that would mean a hefty price tag, but it turns out most vendors were willing to make a deal if the Princess of Wakanda was the one asking. Their guest list was small, considering they didn’t have a large circle of people in the country, but T’Challa did at least agree allow Nicoletta and Mika’s mother (if she agreed to come) in for the celebration. Mika made a brief request for her friends back in Romania, and she thought he was going to say no, but he surprised her by saying yes. Communication with them had been spotty over the past year, and it took a while to coordinate, but soon they had their answer - Elena, Hans, and Nicolae would all be there for the wedding. Maria and Jonas sent their well wishes, but since they were expecting a baby soon, unfortunately had to decline. Alexei was not invited. 

“Mika!” Shuri exclaimed as soon as she walked into the lab the morning before the wedding. The exclamation was louder and more emphatic than usual, which startled her, but the younger girl simply grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to a table. Three almost cake-like things sat on it, with no decorations but definitely baked in ornately shaped tins. “I’ve been doing research on Romanian weddings, and they seem to have this ko- _ korovai _ -” her Wakandan accent made the word sound funny, but considering how Mika sounded when she tried to speak their language, she had no room to judge, “-instead of a cake. Go on, try them and tell me which one is best.”

Mika was so overcome with how sweet Shuri was with her research of traditions that she didn’t have the heart to tell her that most weddings in Romania now featured a cake similar to Western weddings. Besides, she thought, maybe they did need to be a little more traditional. They’d discussed many things that would probably be different than a Wakandan wedding - the kidnapping of the bride, the godparents, the  _ hora _ \- but they’d never discussed the korovai. “Only if you try them with me.” she said, brandishing the knife and raising an eyebrow at Shuri.

“Well, I didn’t want to ask, but if you insist…” Shuri said with a smile, taking the pieces that Mika cut her. Mika had never actually tasted a korovai, but whatever recipes the palace chefs had found were definitely tried and true. It wasn’t really a cake so much as a soft bread, not terribly sweet and flavored with citrus or almond. She realized that Bucky might actually like it, which was more than she could say for traditional wedding cakes. She’d just assumed they wouldn’t have one, but that assumption it would seem, was wrong. 

“I’ve got my favorite. What do you think?” she asked. Shuri paused, looking at her for a long time before shaking her head.

“Not my wedding, not my choice.” she said, taking another bite and continuing with a full mouth, seeming very un-princess-like for a moment. “It’s completely up to you.”

“You’re no help.” Mika chided, taking another bite. Orange blossomed in her mouth, just sweet enough that she knew she was eating a dessert. She knew Bucky liked oranges, often choosing to eat one following their meals while Mika had something  _ actually _ sweet. “I think this one, though.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Shuri said, whispering in a way that made Mika believe she only wanted to pretend to be saying it to herself. “That’s my favorite too.”

“Good.” Mika said, laughing at the girl. “Thank you, Shuri, for finding this.” 

“Of course! It’s the last piece of the puzzle. Now everything will be ready for tomorrow!” she said, clapping her hands excitedly. Mika’s heart leapt into her throat at that statement; she couldn’t believe that it was already here, and yet at the same time, she felt like she’d been waiting ages to get to this point. Shuri, unaware of her mild existential awakening, immediately changed the subject, pulling up the make ups for a new project she wanted Mika working on. It took a bit of mental fortitude, but Mika was able to shift her attention, taking in just enough detail that she could at least get started before bothering Shuri for whatever information she was missing right now. Then she got started on her work, trying her best not to lose herself in daydreams. 

Bucky, for his part, was probably more nervous than Mika. Even if Wakanda was the safest place on the planet, and even if he knew everyone who would be present and knew them relatively well, the idea of standing up in front of a group of people and professing the innermost workings of his heart still sent a jolt of fear through him. And he dealt with that fear the only way he knew how - continuous manual labor until he was exhausted. So he worked with the animals, and the garden, and the landscaping until the afternoon sun was fading into evening and Mika got home from work. Luna was laying on the front porch as he made his way back to the house, the dog having given up shortly after lunch and lounging in the shade. 

“Lazy ass.” he said to her as he got to the steps. She gave him a look that said plainly that she did not care. She got up as Mika climbed up onto the porch as well, receiving her pets and kisses before Mika went to Bucky, wrinkling her nose as she got close.

“You stink.” she said. He shrugged; after all, he’d been sweating and messing with dirt and farm animals all day. Then he smirked with a glint in his eye that made Mika nervous.

“You look like you need a hug.” he said, making her eyes widen in fear. She started backing away then, slowly, opening the door behind her and holding her other hand out, as if that would stop him. He pursued her nonchalantly, which was even more terrifying than him outright going after her. He didn’t stop, even as they passed the threshold of the house.

“Now just one minute there, mister. You need a shower.” she said, trying to sound tough and failing miserably. She tried one last tactic, “Bucky I swear, if you get me all gross when I just got home from work, then I won’t marry you tomorrow.”

He stopped then. He knew, in his heart, that she was kidding. He really did. But his head, with the little piece of it that was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, couldn’t help but take her seriously. It was stupid, he knew. But he couldn’t help it.

“You’re bluffing.” he said, not wanting to admit that her joke had struck a chord with him. She hadn’t meant to, and she didn’t need to go into tomorrow thinking that he doubted her. 

“Are you willing to risk it?” she asked, her face still mischievous, teasing. He swallowed down the fear that was gripping him in a way that it hadn’t in a long time; it was stupid, and irrational, and he was just as sick of it as the last time he’d felt it. But nevertheless, he stopped his advancement. 

“You win this time.” he said, giving her a grin so that she wouldn’t suspect anything. “But as soon as those vows are said, you’re  _ mine _ .”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” she said quickly, still not trusting that he wasn’t going to change his mind and jump her. “Now go on, shower.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he said, trying to play up an annoyed look as he turned towards their room. He turned on the shower and disrobed, stepping under the cold water and letting it course over him for a few moments. The anxiety was ebbing away, faster and easier than it used to. It felt silly now, thinking that Mika was serious, and he felt a little mad at himself for even thinking that she would be.  _ My name is Bucky Barnes. I live in Wakanda. I’m in love with a girl named Mika, and she loves me too... _ He repeated the words to himself two more times, just so they sunk in all the way. He was happy now. And nothing,  _ nothing _ , would change that. 

Once clean and freshly dressed, he returned to the living room to find Mika in the kitchen, humming happily as she made tea. He noticed two cups on the counter; she’d made one for him as well. He came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling into her neck. She interlaced their fingers, leaning back against him and sinking into his embrace. She sniffed deeply and obviously.

“Much better.” she said, making him chuckle. 

“You’re the worst.” he said, of course meaning the exact opposite. She turned in his grasp, laying her arms on his shoulders.

“Ah, but you still love me, right?” she asked, smiling softly. 

“That I do.” he said, pulling her close enough so he could kiss her. She held him tightly, kissing him back for a few moments before pulling away. 

“I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.” she whispered against his lips, earning another kiss.

“The feeling is mutual.” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers. Once again, he felt embarrassed at the moment of doubt earlier. Mika loved him; it was the truth, and it wouldn’t change. The touching moment was interrupted by her stomach growling so aggressively that he could feel it against his. They both dissolved into laughter, and he stepped away to go to the refrigerator. “Guess that means it’s supper time, hm?”

“I wouldn’t be upset about it.” she replied, picking up her cup of tea and perching on the kitchen island. He smiled, taking a sip of his own tea (made perfectly) before getting on with his cooking. 

The next day was a whirlwind. They got to enjoy a quiet breakfast together, ignoring both superstition and the people Shuri had hired to turn their backyard into someplace worthy of a wedding. They even got most of the daily chores done before Steve arrived with Sam, Natasha, and Nicoletta in tow, all of them varying degrees of excited for the day. The others would arrive later, escorted by someone appointed by T’Challa and well versed with all the security measures necessary to transport civilians from outside of the country. Nicoletta allowed herself one brief moment to kiss Bucky on the cheek before whisking Mika off to the bathroom to clean up, banishing the men to the front of the house. They might have shirked tradition, but Nicoletta would not. 

Soon Mika was showered and settled in a chair, allowing her sister to carefully work her hair. Well, she was supposed to be doing her hair. Really, they were now lounging in bathrobes and eating fruit that Bucky had so graciously cut up for them. Natasha, having spent more than enough time in close quarters with Sam and Steve, was happy to join them after freshening up herself. Usually when she visited, she and Mika spent a lot of time in the training room, but as of late they’d spent more time gossiping over tea. Mika was well aware that Natasha was a world famous assassin, but she was also a human, one that needed some friends. Especially girl friends. 

“Have you ever thought about getting married, Natasha?” Nicoletta asked lightly, and Mika chuckled at the look that she gave her sister. 

“Absolutely not.” she said shortly. Nicoletta blushed, and Natasha paused as she realized that that may have not been the best response on someone’s wedding day. “Not that-”

“It’s not for everyone.” Mika said with a shrug, meaning every word. Part of her believed that marriage was just a piece of paper, that it was simply a legality issue with the state. But the other part of her, the majority part, also really liked her ring and the idea of calling Bucky  _ my husband _ . “So you haven’t found anyone special while out adventuring?”

“God, while trying to wrangle those two idiots? I don’t even have time to think about it.” she said, rolling her eyes. “I swear, I thought Sam would help balance Steve’s impulsivity a little bit, but no, they just enable each other.”

“Thank goodness they have you.” Nicoletta pointed out, and Mika wondered (not for the first time) exactly how close she was with them. They often stayed at her house in Germany, she knew, when they couldn’t make it all the way to Wakanda. 

“They’re lucky.” Natasha agreed, getting some more food. She gestured towards Mika’s head. “So, what are we doing with this situation?”

“Ugh.” Mika groaned, throwing her head back so that half her hair was flung over her face. Nicoletta hopped up, rubbing her head aggressively so that her hair would tangle. She screamed, flailing against the assault until she finally backed down, cackling at the bird’s nest that now sat on Mika’s head. 

“Perfect!” Natasha concluded, throwing her hands up in support. 

“Thank you!” Nicoletta said, actually taking a bow as Mika struggled to see through the mess of her head. “Bucky won’t be able to keep his hands...hand off you.”

“I hate you.” Mika said, trying her best to glare at the two women. They tried their best to keep straight faces, but Mika’s angry look combined with her tangled hair had them laughing again just moments later. “Nicoletta!” Mika whined, making her sister roll her eyes.

“Alright, alright, Jesus. I’ll fix it now.” she said, getting the brush from its place and beginning to gently untangle her hair. “Natasha, tell us a story.”

Natasha let out a short laugh. “Hmm,” she hummed in thought, tapping her chin as she decided on something. “So a few weeks ago, we were on a covert op in the middle of Milan…”

It was easy to get ready then, taking frequent breaks to laugh at the shenanigans that Natasha regaled them with. It was so easy to picture their friends as different people than their superhero personas, but stories like these connected the two. Nicoletta in particular was very amused, as the stories often explained weird and egregious injuries that she’d helped patch up if they made a pit stop at her home. It reminded Mika of sleepovers she used to have when she was younger, talking shop with the girls and messing with each others’ hair and makeup. The only difference was that she really didn’t want to end up looking like a clown when they were done, and she wasn’t usually discussing superhero adventures with her friends. 

Nicoletta made up Mika, and even convinced Natasha to let her fix up her short, blonde hair and apply just a bit of makeup. That was the best thing about working in the field like they were, Natasha said. She didn’t have to go around in a push up bra and high heels anymore. But tonight she would allow herself to doll up a little bit, just for Mika’s sake. Mika couldn’t help but smile as she watched Nicoletta carefully apply some eyeliner to her. She wouldn’t say that she and Natasha were  _ best _ friends, but they were  _ good _ friends, and she was suddenly glad that Shuri talked her into having an actual wedding. 

Nicoletta had just finished zipping up Mika’s dress (a soft, silky number that would still allow her to breathe and dance as they night went on) when a knock sounded from the door. Natasha stood to open it, greeting Sam. He had to poke his head in, giving an appreciative whistle as he spotted Mika.

“Hot damn, Meeks.” he said with an impish grin. “You sure I can’t convince you to leave Barnes?”

“Not yet at least.” she replied, blushing at his compliment. He snapped his fingers in disappointment.

“Well damn. Guess that means you’re still my date, huh?” he said, turning his attention to Natasha just in time for her to perk and eyebrow and give an unimpressed look.

“For now.” she replied. She gave one last smile to Mika. “You look beautiful. See you out there.” 

“Thanks for everything, Natasha.” Mika replied, blowing her a kiss. With that, Natasha and Sam exited, leaving the sisters alone. Nicoletta went about fixing imperfections that weren’t there, blinking away tears that were threatening to form.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice already thick with emotion. 

“Stop that.” Mika said, grabbing her sister’s nervous hands and holding them. Nicoletta stopped fidgeting, finally looking her in the eye again.

“Sorry, I’m just…” she paused, taking a shaky breath. “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Thank you, Nicoletta. And thank you for being here. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” she said, her own throat starting to close as her feelings swelled up. Nicoletta cleared her throat.

“You know, I think they would be really proud of you.” she said quietly. Mika blinked furiously at the tears, thinking of their family members gone before their time.

“It’s a real dick move to bring up Dad and Raisa right now.” she replied,her voice cracking and all the bite gone from it. She was trying to break the tension and failing miserably. “You just spent hours on my makeup.”

“You know I always like to be the prettiest in the room.” she said, her voice high and tight as she tried not to cry. Mika pulled her in for a hug and they grasped each other tightly, taking in this moment together. Another knock sounded, and the two girls sniffled and dabbed away their tears, making sure they were presentable before answering it. The King stood on the other side of the door, giving her a warm smile.

“Are we still going through with this, or have you changed your mind?” he asked lightly, making them both laugh.

“I think your sister would kill me.” Mika replied, smoothing over her dress even though it wasn’t wrinkled or out of place. T’Challa nodded.

“She is very excited about this.” he agreed. 

“Is our mum…?” Nicoletta let the question hang, immediately regretting asking it. T’Challa put on the Kingly mask that meant he was hiding his true feelings.

“Previously engaged, I’m afraid.” he said in a carefully curated, neutral tone. Mika didn’t know if she was disappointed or relieved by this information, but was distracted by Nicoletta tangling their fingers together.

“Guess we’ll have another one later then, hm?” she said, giving her sister the most encouraging smile that she could muster. Mika let out a breath and nodded; today was going to be a happy day, and she was not going to let this change that. 

“Let’s get through this one first.” she said, giving her a winning smile. Nicoletta nodded, going to grab their flowers from the vases by the door. 

“It’s time!” she said, handing her the bouquet. Mika took it, then took a breath before turning to T’Challa.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering his elbow. She smiled, a billion butterflies taking flight in her stomach as she took it.

“We shall.” she said, allowing him to lead her from the room. 

The backyard looked incredible, with elegantly carved wooden chairs arranged in neat rows and strings of small lanterns criss-crossing over the entire area. She could see the backs of everyone’s heads as they sat, chatting lightly with each other as they waited for the ceremony to begin. T’Challa left her then, striding confidently out the door and down the aisle. A moment later, Nicoletta kissed her cheek and linked their elbows, both of them squaring their shoulders before following. 

There was a brief moment of panic as everyone turned to look at her. She’d never been one for the spotlight, and usually avoided being the center of attention. Having so many eyes on her made her nervous. Nicoletta squeezed her arm, reminding her to take a breath. “You can do this,” she whispered, though Mika wasn’t quite sure she could. Then, she spotted Bucky.

He stood at the front, next to T’Challa and with Steve behind him, his jaw fallen open as he spotted her. He was in a dark suit that looked slightly militaristic, reminiscent of the uniform she’d seen in a picture Steve had found. Tears threatened to fall again as her heart swelled to capacity. God, how did she get so lucky? She forgot about everyone else there as they walked to the front, Nicoletta kissing her once again before letting go and giving her hand to Bucky. His touch was warm, confident, and firm, his eyes never leaving hers as the ceremony began.

“To friends and family, both near and far,  _ welcome _ .” T’Challa said, the last word in his native tongue. Everyone sat down in unison; until then, Mika hadn’t realized they’d been standing. “I’m sure you all know why we’re here.” She could hear the smirk in his voice, as well as the titter of laughter going through the small audience, but she only had eyes for Bucky. “These two people, brought together by fate and held together by love - and some degree of stubbornness-” more titters, “-have chosen to profess their commitment both to each other and to you, and vow to stay bound until their ancestors call them home.

Over the past year, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know the two of them. I was able to support them during one of their most difficult times, and in return, they supported me and my family through one of ours.” A sniffle sounded then, and Mika chanced a glance away to see Shuri in the front row, already crying. “And now, I am proud to stand before you today, not as a King, but as their friend, and bind them in the wonderful ties of marriage. I’ll have you know, I had a three page speech prepared for this moment, but I was informed by parties that shall remain unnamed -” here he looked at Shuri, who didn’t look embarrassed at all, “-that the happy couple wishes to keep this short and sweet. So, shall we begin?”

Mika looked away from Bucky at that moment, her eyes going to T’Challa. And he was right; at that moment, he didn’t look like the King. He just looked like a friend, happy to be at their wedding. He wasn’t sporting his usual neutral half-grin, instead he was boasting a full on smile. He pulled a small book from his pocket, its leather cover giving away how many years it had been in use. It fell open to a frequented page, T’Challa smoothing it down as he took a deep breath. He read aloud in Wakandan a traditional prayer, one used by every tribe in the country; it was the only thing that they all had in common. Shuri had translated it for her once, but Mika found she couldn’t remember it. All she knew was there was something about  _ a love as endless and bright as the stars in the sky _ . But right now, she did not care about the stars in the sky, just starting to twinkle as she setting sun painted the world blue and purple and gold. All she cared about was the low, lilting voice of T’Challa as he spoke, and the fierce blue of Bucky’s eyes as he gazed back at her, his hand steady as she held it. She thought of that first night they’d spoken - really spoken - after he’d saved her on the street and made her tea to help with the headache. It felt like a lifetime ago. He’d been so guarded, so shy. And then slowly, achingly slowly, they’d become friends, and best friends, and then more. She wasn’t where she thought she’d ever be, but with Bucky by her side, she knew this was where she belonged.

“Mika, ladies first.” he said, interrupting her reverie. She turned to him. “Ready?”

“Yes.” she said, perhaps a little too quickly. Their friends laughed (as did Bucky), but she didn’t blush. She would never apologize for her eagerness to marry this man. She turned back to him, his grin making her smile as he squeezed her fingers just slightly.

“I, Mika Alexandria Corsof,” T’Challa led her.

“I, Mika Alexandria Corsof,” she echoed, her voice quiet, but sure. She felt like she was only speaking to Bucky, and didn’t care if no one else heard it. 

“Take you, James Buchanan Barnes-” 

“Bucky.” he interrupted, flashing a grin and making the King roll his eyes. Mika laughed, as did most of the group, and T’Challa rephrased.

“Take you, Bucky Barnes,” he said it with slight distaste, just enough to show that he was joking.

“Take you, Bucky Barnes,” Mika followed, giggling as she said his name. He took a deep breath as she said it, his chest expanding as if he were trying to make room for the feelings inside of him.

“To be my husband.” he finished, and again she could hear the smile on his face.

“To be my husband.” she said, unable to stop the wide, excited smile from forming. This was happening. This was really happening!

“To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to support and protect, through all happiness and times of turmoil, as long as we both shall live.” he said. 

“To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to support and protect, through all happiness and times of turmoil, as long as we both shall live.” Mika repeated, with blatant enthusiasm, and shook his hand slightly as she finished. T’Challa smiled, and then turned to Bucky. “Your turn.”

“Good.” he said, making Mika laugh. She was glad to see that he was as ready as she was.

“I, Bucky Barnes,” he began again.

“I, Bucky Barnes,” he said, his voice low and quiet, but steady and sure.

“Take you, Mika Alexandria Corsof,” he continued.

“Take you, Mika Alexandria Corsof,” Bucky repeated, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. Tears once again formed as he said her name, and this time one did manage to spill onto her cheek. 

“To be my wife.” 

“To be my wife.” he repeated, reaching up and gently wiping away the tear before holding her hand again.

“To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to support and protect, through all happiness and times of turmoil, as long as we both shall live.” T’Challa said again.

“To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to support and protect, through all happiness and times of turmoil, as long as we both shall live.” Bucky repeated it with a fervor that he rarely showed, especially in front of other people. He put special emphasis on  _ protect _ , which made her breath catch in her throat. 

“Now, I’m told it’s traditional for the bride and groom to receive crowns during the ceremony,” T’Challa said, and Mika couldn’t help but smile, as she knew what was coming next. Bucky eyed her suspiciously; she’d told him the headpieces were a regular occurrence, but hadn’t told him exactly which ones she’d gotten. T’Challa reached to table behind him and pulled out two thin, braided crowns laced with flowers. “But I’m afraid all of ours are in use, so these will have to suffice.”

The look Bucky gave her as she placed a flower crown on his head was worth the trouble she’d be in later for it. Even though he stayed silent, she could hear the words he wanted to say -  _ full of shit _ . But even then, as he carefully placed hers on her head, his joy won out over his annoyance. T’Challa then brought out a piece of bread and a cup of wine, asking them to give each other a bite and a drink.

“Blood, body, and spirit, bound in love for eternity.” he said. They weren’t traditional Romanian words, but Mika appreciated them all the same. He gestured at Steve, who handed him the two wedding bands. She noticed Steve then, pretty much for the first time, dressed smartly in a suit and looking far more emotional than she thought he would. T’Challa handed the first ring, a thin golden one, to Mika, and gestured for her to take Bucky’s hand.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” he said, the sentiment sounding even more wonderful with his accent.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Mika agreed, sliding it onto his finger. His smile was wide and unabashed now, his cheeks faintly pink as he gazed at her. T’Challa handed him the small silver band. 

“With this ring, I thee wed.” he prompted.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” he stated, sliding the band on until it rested against his mother’s ring, sparkling in the sunset. 

“By my grace and power, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” he said, followed by a joyous sounding phrase in Wakandan. Their friends in the chairs who knew the tradition responded in the appropriate manner, and though Mika couldn’t understand it, she could still feel the words in her soul. He turned to Bucky then. “Now, kiss your bride.”

Bucky did not need to be told twice, his hand going behind her head and bringing her in for a sound kiss. The world went silent, and for a moment it was just the two of them, husband and wife, beginning their life together. Then the volume came back and the cheers reached them, breaking into their little bubble as they pulled away from each other. He grabbed her hand, leading her down the aisle back towards their house. He didn’t look where he was going; he only looked at her. 

They ducked into the house, allowed a few moments of blessed alone time while the long table was arranged for the reception. As soon as they were out of eyesight, Bucky pulled her close again, kissing her deeply and hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. And really, he couldn’t. She responded in kind, her arms going around his neck as she pressed herself as close as she possibly could. They broke apart a few minutes later, smiling like two dumb teenagers.

“I love you.” she whispered, afraid that if she spoke too loud she would break the spell.

“Say it again.” he murmured back. He’d never get tired of hearing her say it. 

“I love you.” she said again, this time a little louder. 

“And I love you.” he responded with a grin. She couldn’t stop smiling, and giggled as she glanced at his lips. “What?”

“You have lipstick all over you.” she replied. It really wasn’t  _ all over _ him, but his lips had definitely taken on a reddish hue. He gave her a cheeky grin, but before he could reply she grabbed a towel and put it over his mouth. He laughed again, wiping away the small traces of makeup before presenting his face to her again.

“Better?” he asked. She smoothed his hair before resting her hands on his cheeks.

“Perfect.” she replied, kissing him once more, softly this time. “Now come on, time to celebrate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure, i'm not romanian, so if you are and i get any of the traditions wrong, please please please let me know and i'll address it! all i could do was aggressively search the internet!


	59. Man and Wife

Even though neither Mika nor Bucky really enjoyed being the center of attention, it didn’t seem so bad when it was their wedding. 

To be fair, a lot of the attention was shared, since they had such a small group of (mostly) extroverted friends who all wished to meet and know one another. Mika was happy to have Elena, Hans, and Nicolae across from her as they sat down to supper; she adored her friends from Wakanda, and was happy they were there to celebrate, but she hadn’t seen these three in over a year, and was nearly brought to tears as she realized how much she missed them. Nicolae caught her up on all the work gossip, and Elena detailed all the new projects she’d been working on. Hans lamented his difficulty with finding a new cook for the pub; he’d gone through four trying and dramatic appointments before finally settling on a woman named Calliope who was somewhere between the ages of forty and seventy and may or may not be a witch. Bucky and Steve both looked concerned at this admission, but Hans merely shrugged and said as long as she did her job and no one got sick he didn’t care.

Mika took a moment to soak it in, resting her head against her hand and letting her eyes flit around the big table. Her friends from Romania were caught up in an argument about something or another, and it was so magical to hear her language from home that she didn’t care how loud they were. Down the table, Sam was regaling a story to T’Challa, Shuri, and Kanoni, trying to impress the latter. On the other side, Natasha chatted amiably with Okoye, their conversation rather bright for two usually reserved women. Under the table, Luna made her rounds, waiting to see if anyone would sneak her some food from their plates. Bucky sat with his hand protectively resting on her knee, his thumb idly stroking little circles as he reminisced with Steve. 

“Everything you envisioned?” Nicoletta’s soft voice cut into her reverie. Mika shook herself out of it, turning to her with a warm smile.

“Even better.” she replied with a smile. She put her arm around her, pulling her close so that she was resting her head on her shoulder. Nicoletta interlaced their fingers, sighing contentedly in her sister’s embrace. There was still a slight flicker of anger burning in her heart that their mother hadn’t come, but she did her best to extinguish it. Now was not the time to think about it.

“Good.” she said, pulling away and getting up from the table. She picked up the beautiful glass flute that was definitely handmade somewhere in the city, delicately tapping her fork against it to get everyone’s attention. Mika immediately started blushing; this was the part she feared the most, the painful embarrassment even worse than when a large group of friends sings  _ happy birthday _ in the middle of a busy restaurant. “If I may borrow your attention for just a moment,” she said, her English as crisp as she could make it. 

“Get the tissues.” Sam remarked, making the table laugh. Mika appreciated him splitting the attention, if only for a moment. Nicoletta shot a playful glare his way before turning back to her sister and brother-in-law. Bucky slid his arm around Mika’s shoulders, letting her lean into him. 

“If you’d asked me when we were younger what I pictured Mika’s wedding would be like, I definitely would not say in her backyard in the middle of a secret African nation.” she started, making more chuckles echo around the table. “But I always dreamed that she would be with someone who would love and adore her, as much as she did them. Mika’s always been quick to love, you see, and didn’t always choose people who deserved all the good that she has. In fact, I was of the firm belief that she would never,  _ ever _ find anyone who was good enough for my sister. And then came Bucky.” She gave him a smile then, one that he returned readily as Mika tucked herself more against him. “I knew you were different, right from the beginning. I wasn’t aware of  _ how _ different exactly-” more titters around the crowd, “-but I knew that no one would ever love her like you. Welcome to the family, Bucky. Every happiness to you both.”

She was tearing up a bit as she raised her glass in a toast, the people around the table echoing her sentiment. When she sat down, Mika immediately pulled her into a hug, murmuring some sisterly affections to her. Bucky reached across as well, kissing her cheek and thanking her for her kind words. He really couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law. As they settled, all eyes turned to Steve, who looked rather bashful as he stood with his glass.

“You know, I never thought I was gonna get to do this.” he said, his voice cracking just a bit. He paused to compose himself, blinking rapidly and taking slow, measured breaths. Mika’s hand went to her heart, and it was difficult for her not to cry as well. He finally cleared his throat before trying again. “We’ve known each other for about ninety years, Bucky and I. We were both a little...indisposed for most of that, but it’s a fun fact nonetheless.” he paused again, and even if Bucky’s face was calm and collected, his grip on Mika’s hand tightened just a bit. “Even if neither one of our lives turned out the way we thought they would, I’m still happy to say that you managed to sort yours out pretty well. For a long time, you were my only family. And today, my family gets a little bigger. Mika, you’re way out of his league, but I’m still glad that you chose him, and I’m very happy for you two and the wonderful life you’re going to have together.”

He rose his glass then, and once again the guests said their cheers. Mika had the distinct impression that his toast was slightly shorter than he originally intended for it to be, but she couldn’t fault him. He and Bucky embraced as he sat down again, the hug lasting longer than it normally did. Mika tried to subtly wipe her tears before they parted, leaning across Bucky so she could kiss Steve’s cheeks multiple times on each side. Her heart felt like it was going to burst with all the emotions she was trying to keep inside. 

“Go fix your makeup, I’ll keep everyone situated here.” Nicoletta said quietly, giving Mika an endearing grin. Mika nodded, missing the look her sister sent to the man behind her; she was sure that things were a little smudged after the tears from the toast. She kissed Bucky once before getting up and going into the house, reveling in the silence as she shut the door behind her. She took a breath, realizing that her cheeks hurt from smiling, and purposefully let the joyful expression fall from her face in order to give the muscles a break. She went to their bedroom, ducking into the bathroom so she could freshen up a bit. Nicoletta was right, her mascara was slightly smudged, but her eyes were bright and her cheeks red with the happiness of the night. She carefully fixed her face and took another breath before going out of their room - and nearly running into Steve.

“Fancy meeting you here.” he said with a mischievous grin. Mika perked an eyebrow.

“Oh? Did Bucky send you to check on me?” she asked, though she had an inkling of why he was here and not out enjoying the reception.

“Nope.” he replied, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“Ah, just as I suspected.” she said, her voice bouncing as Steve walked to the front door and out of it. They could hear the sounds of the party out back, the noise softening as he started down the hill away from the house. It was a little known tradition for the bride to be “kidnapped” at Romanian weddings, and she’d made the mistake of assuming they wouldn’t do it. “Someone warned Bucky, right?”

“Your sister made mention of it a couple weeks ago, after she roped me into her master plan.” he explained, still carrying her easily. 

“I’m sure that was a difficult sell to you.” she replied sarcastically, meaning laced in her words. 

“Easy.” he replied lowly, though she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Where are we going, exactly?” she asked, wondering if she needed to settle in for a long ride. She loved Steve dearly, but having his shoulder in her abdomen was not exactly comfortable.

“To the other side of the garden.” he replied lightly, making her wriggle to try and see him.

“The garden? But that’s a kilometer away!” she exclaimed. Usually, in the tradition, the bride was taken to a local landmark. Since any Wakandan landmarks were a good distance from their house, Steve had to improvise a bit. 

“Yep.” he said, unable to contain his laughter as he adjusted his hold on her.

“You know, I am a cooperative hostage. I can walk.” she pointed out, though as far as views went, her current one wasn’t  _ terrible _ ...not that she’d ever tell Bucky that. 

“And risk the wrath of your sister if you get this dress dirty? Absolutely not.” he said. He wasn’t even out of breath, though they’d walked a significant distance already. She grinned.

“And again, you bring up Nicoletta.” she said lightly, making him fall silent for a moment.

“Just don’t wanna get in trouble.” he replied in the same tone. Since she couldn’t see his face, she decided not to push it...for now.

“I liked your speech.” she said softly, and he gave a sharp, self-deprecating laugh.

“I’m glad.” he admitted. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I’d get that emotional. Given a lot tougher speeches under a lot more dire circumstances.”

“Sometimes it’s more difficult to be vulnerable.” she pointed out, thinking of how closed off Bucky used to be when they first met, how he covered up any sign of weakness or susceptibility. 

“Got that right.” Steve said, adjusting her slightly and making her groan as some bone sank into her ribs.

“Seriously Steve, can I please walk? I’ll pick up my skirt, I promise.” she choked out. It was difficult to breathe in her current position. He moved her again, and while it was still uncomfortable, at least she didn’t feel like her liver was trying to move in next to her heart.

“Sorry, Meeks. I’ve got orders.” he said. She noticed the ground change as they went from the field to the garden, the nice little rows of plants dancing in the breeze as they walked by. She noticed Steve was careful to keep his steps in between the rows; for such a big man, he moved very gracefully. He made it all the way to the back of the garden before setting her down in front of a bench she didn’t know was there. He brushed the top of it off, though it seemed impeccably clean, and still laid a blanket over it, not trusting it to keep her dress spotless.

“You two have been planning this for longer than a couple weeks.” she remarked, delicately sitting on the blanket. Steve sat down next to her, looking very relaxed for someone who just carried a grown woman over a kilometer. 

“Oh, it wasn’t me. I’m just the brawn enacting the brain’s dreams.” he said, holding his hands up in innocence. Mika crossed her legs and rested her head on her hand, looking at Steve with a big grin.

“You’re a sweet man, Steve.” she said, making him laugh and blush.

“Don’t tell Sam. He won’t let me hear the end of it. I’ve got a reputation to protect you know.” he said, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking over at her. She mimed zipping her lips and locking them up tight. 

“Your secret is safe with me.” she replied with a smile. She reached out and squeezed his hand affectionately. “Thanks for coming tonight, Steve.”

“Oh, are you kiddin’ me? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” he said, letting go of her hand so that he could hug her a little rougher than she was anticipating. “I’ve never seen him this happy, even before…” he left the sentence hanging, taking his arm back and looking off towards the house. “He’s a lucky bastard, and I hope he knows that.”

“He better!” Mika laughed, though not at humorously as she intended. She turned towards him once more, a curiosity on the tip of her tongue. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” he said, though his purposefully casual posture still gave way to stiffness in anticipation of what she would ask.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked tentatively. She wasn’t asking because she wondered if he was in love with her sister; no, she knew whatever awkward run-around they were playing wasn’t anything like that. She’d just never heard him mention anything besides the one time he and Bucky got drunk on the porch. Steve blew out a long breath.

“Damn, you go straight for the big stuff, huh?” he said with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” she qualified with a shrug. She was being shamelessly nosy at this point, and she didn’t much care if he knew it. “I just figured, we’ve got some time, just the two of us. And that never happens.”

“No, no it’s fine.” he said, giving her a shy grin. He bolstered his courage before answering her. “I was once, a long time ago.”

“With the girl from work?” she pressed, and he grimaced a little bit.

“That was...a different kind of love, I think.” he said, trying to be polite. “If that’s possible.”

“Oh, it’s completely possible.” she said, with such conviction that he responded with surprise. “Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with them forever. 

“You mean to tell me you’ve been in love before Bucky?” he exclaimed in mock appallment, his cartoonish expression making her laugh loudly. 

“I have, a couple times.” she replied. She didn’t go into detail. This wasn’t the night where she wanted to think about her exes, whether they broke her heart or the other way around. “But with Bucky...it’s different.”

“Well I should hope so, since you married him and all.” he said, grinning madly at her. She shoved him, and he was nice enough to pretend that the gesture made any impact on him. Really it wasn’t even strong enough to remove the smile from his face. “I’m happy for you two, I really am.”

“Thank you, Steve.” she said softly, reaching out to hold his hand again. She kept holding it, even as they spotted Bucky making his way down the rows towards them. They gave him matching smirks, which only made him look more put out.

“You know, you could’ve waited until the day after the wedding to run away with my best friend.” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. Mika held up her hands.

“Hey, I was kidnapped.” she said innocently before standing and lifting her arms in triumph. “And look! You found me!”

“It wasn’t that hard.” he deadpanned, giving Steve a sidelong glance. The other guy didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

“Hey man, get that stick outta your ass. It’s your wedding day.” he said cheekily, clapping him on the shoulder. Bucky rolled his eyes before turning back to Mika.

“So what now? Does tradition dictate that I kick his ass for your honor or something?” he asked, sounding a little more hopeful than either one of them thought he would. Steve raised his eyebrows and looked to Mika; Nicoletta hadn’t mentioned any of that during their planning. She couldn’t help but laugh at the faces both of them were making, prolonging the moment until she finally put them at ease.

“No, no. You found me fair and square, now we just go back to our wedding.” she said with a smile. He nodded dutifully, bending down so that he could pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. She made a loud noise of disagreement, but he didn’t let go. “Bucky! Put me down! I don’t want to be carried again!” she exclaimed in Romanian, not bothering to try and translate since she was so irate. 

“Sorry. Nicoletta’s orders.” he replied, making her groan and hang dramatically limp over him. She appreciated her sister’s dedication to her dress, but really? Being carried like a sack of potatoes? Although she had to admit, if she thought the view was good earlier...it was even better now. But not good enough to allow herself to be miserable for another kilometer. It was her wedding day, and she was the bride - her vote should top the maid of honor’s.

A plan formed in her mind. It wasn’t exactly playing fair, but it was likely to get her what she wanted. She cast a careful look at Steve, whose brows furrowed as if he sensed the mischief in her brain. Then, she carefully reached down and pinched Bucky right in the rear.

“Hey now!” he said sharply, startling at the touch. She ignored the exclamation, pinching him again and making him jump. Since he only had one arm, he couldn’t exactly reach back to swipe away her hand. “Stop that!”  
  
“Put me down!” she replied, pinching him a third time for good measure. He growled lowly, but she could tell he was giving in.

“Your sister said-”

“I am your wife! You should listen to  _ me _ !” she reminded him. She looked up at Steve, who quickly averted his eyes and pretended that he wasn’t amused by the exchange. Bucky sighed heavily.

“Did Steve get this same treatment?” he asked lowly. Mika pinched him again, making him let out a very annoyed noise and say, “Stop!”

“He did not. I figured you wouldn’t appreciate it.” she replied. “You know, tradition only dictates the kidnapping. There’s nothing about being carried.”

“Fine, but you get to explain it to Nicoletta.” he said, finally setting her down. They were already about halfway back to the house; it wouldn’t be a far walk from here. Mika was more than willing to accept that risk if it meant her ribs wouldn’t be sore for the rest of the wedding. She linked her arms through both Steve and Bucky’s elbows as they walked, feeling rather small between the two stocky super soldiers (even though she was just barely shorter than Bucky). It did allow for a grand entrance as they returned to the backyard, the guests happy that she returned safely. The music started up, and Steve let go of her, gently shepherding them towards the makeshift dance floor (which was really just the most level patch of grass that they had). The music subtly changed, and soon the dulcet tones of Bing Crosby started echoing around them. Mika slid her arms over his shoulders as his circled around her waist, pressing her close. He bearded cheek was rough against hers, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Glad we did this?” she murmured very quietly, knowing he’d be able to hear her.

“Very much so.” he whispered. “Any regrets?” 

“Not wearing a short dress so Steve would let me walk.” she said immediately, and she could feel as he smiled, his breath tickling her shoulder as he laughed. She had a feeling he wanted to reply with something sarcastic, but she didn’t let him, continuing with, “This - everything about tonight - has been perfect. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.” 

“The feeling is mutual.” he said, his hand gripping her just a little tighter. Their dance was nothing more than a gentle sway, holding each other close, but in that moment it was exactly what they wanted. When the song ended, he pulled back just enough to kiss her fully, lipstick and watching eyes be damned. She was his wife, and he was going to kiss her if he wanted. She smiled brightly as he stepped away, reaching up and wiping just a bit of red from his lips. 

“I love you.” she murmured.

“Say it again.” he replied. Always, once more.

“I love you!” she said, louder this time, loud enough that their guests heard her and cheered at the response. He blushed, leaning his forehead against hers so he could quietly say,

“I love you too.” 

That’s when the party really started. With her father and his mother both passed, they skipped the traditional familial dances. Since her mother was not present, they also skipped the traditional  _ hora _ dance, despite Nicoletta’s insistence that she could still trade Mika’s veil for the traditional scarf. It was too warm for a scarf anyway. 

For the first hour or two, Mika and Bucky didn’t see each other except from across the dance floor as all their friends took their turns dancing with them. The King congratulated her on her marriage, and blushed when she thanked him profusely for leading such a beautiful ceremony. Next was Shuri, who also blushed as Mika rambled on and on about how wonderful everything was, how grateful she was for her help, and how incredibly lucky she was to consider the Princess a friend. Shuri, with all the grace of a seventeen year old, said that she was happy to help, and hoped that they could be friends for a long time. A song later, Hans had her in his arms and complained that she needed to stop befriending attractive super soldiers that he didn’t have a chance with. Nicolae was next, telling her that he missed her at work, but then asking if there were any openings in Shuri’s lab and if she could put in a good word for him. She laughed at this, shaking her head; he needed special privileges, she said, like being married to a formerly brainwashed super soldier that was falsely accused of murder by the King. He shrugged at that; fair enough. 

“Told you so.” was the first thing Elena said when they finally found each other for a dance. Mika perked an eyebrow.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific.” she replied. There were many things Elena had told her over the years, and if she was honest, Mika had forgotten a lot of them.

“I said you’d be married within the year.” she boasted, looking quite proud of herself. Mika giggled, shaking her head.

“Technically it’s been over a year.” she replied, not willing to let her win. Elena rolled her eyes dramatically.

“So I was off by a month or two. Every hypothesis has a margin of error.” she said, using the same voice that she used when talking about her science experiments at work. Mika just smiled, pulling her friend close.

“Ah, I’ve missed you, El.” she said, and even if Elena’s voice was steady despite her emotions, she did clutch her a little tighter.

“I’ve missed you too. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to call a little more often.” she said, pinching her arm lightly. 

“You’re right. I’ll fix that.” Mika said. “Call it...a new marriage resolution.”

“Does that mean you’re planning to have more than one marriage?” Elena asked, leaning back to give her a shocked look. This time it was Mika’s turn to roll her eyes; Elena always had to have the last word.

“No. This is my first and only.” she replied, making her friend smile.

“Good. Cause he’s the best of anyone I’ve ever seen you with.” she said. She was quiet for a moment before her face became uncharacteristically serious. “You know, I was pretty mad for a while, after you went to Germany.”

“Yea, I know.” Mika admitted. She still remembered Elena trying to talk her out of it, saying that it was a bad idea. And for the first part of her adventures that started that day in their apartment building, she was right. 

“But I’m still glad you went. You were playing the long game.” she conceded, nodding her head in Bucky’s direction. Mika glanced over at him, sitting in the chairs and chatting with Hans and Nicolae as if they were old friends. A quick sweep of the dance floor showed that Steve was dancing with Nicoletta, and though there was a respectable space between them, they were both grinning as they talked. 

“Eh, you weren’t wrong. I definitely could have gone about this a better way.” she said with a smile. “And you were just looking out for me.”

“Well, now that job’s been passed on.” she said with a grin. The song ended, and Elena hugged her tightly. “Happy for you, Mika.”

“Thank you, El.” she said, planting a kiss on her friend’s cheek as they parted. They held hands for just a second longer before someone else who still wasn’t Bucky swept her into another dance.

The party definitely went later than she thought it would, though she should have known better, with the friends that were there. It was well past dark before they cut into the korovai, Bucky admitting that he did, in fact, enjoy the cake. It was even later than that before she tossed her bouquet (Shuri caught it), and he tossed the garter (Sam was victorious then). The full moon had passed its peak when the party started to wind down, the native Wakandans leaving for their homes as their out of town guests arranged themselves on mattresses and palets laid out on their living room floor. 

Mika was exhausted as she stepped into their bathroom, but as she spotted herself in the mirror, she thought she’d never seen herself look happier. She hummed along to the last song that had been playing when they finally called the night, methodically pulling the pins from her hair. One by one the curls fell from their home, tumbling down around her shoulders as she freed them. She heard the bedroom door close just as she removed the last one, Bucky stepping into the bathroom with her. He leaned against the doorframe, smiling widely at her. He looked younger in that moment, his eyes bright as they raked over the sight of her. The love on his face made her blush and feel shy for some reason, either due to the intensity of his gaze or how rarely he blatantly wore his feelings. 

“I know, the hair looks ridiculous now.” she said quietly, shaking out the curls. Her scalp was sore from the hair being pulled in one direction for so long. He shook his head, pushing off the doorframe to come up behind her, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her shoulder.

“You look beautiful,  _ my love _ .” he said softly, using a Romanian term of endearment that she’d only ever heard her father call her mother. “I just can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Forever and always,  _ my darling _ .” she replied, using the complimentary term. The word felt odd on her tongue, but using it felt right. He nuzzled into her neck, and she held him close, the gravity of the day finally lifting as she realized this was it, they were  _ married _ . 

“Need help with this?” he asked, gently touching the zipper of her dress. His touch was light, sensual and familiar without being seductive. Though she wanted desperately to catch her second (or third, or fourth at this point) wind and make love to him on their wedding night, she was already spent, and they had a house full of people just outside their door. 

“Please.” she said, and he easily pulled it down for her. He turned on the water of the shower as she stepped out of her dress, arranging it on its hanger before carefully placing it in the closet. He was halfway out of his garb when she returned, and she took a moment to take in the view of his muscles as he finished undressing. That was her  _ husband _ . 

He held his hand out to her, tugging her until she was standing under the spray with him. The water was warm and soothing on her tired muscles, and she let out a content sigh as she leaned against him. He held her for a few minutes, the water soaking them both, before reaching out and getting the soap, lazily tracing it over her back and her arms. When he finished that, he whispered for her to turn around, and he washed her front as well. 

“I could get used to this.” she murmured as he finished, and he chuckled in response, though his words failed him. She held her hand out for the soap. “Your turn.”

Just like he had, she carefully washed his skin, an act of service for her new spouse. She then reached for the shampoo, working it into his hair and scrubbing away the product that Nicoletta no doubtedly asked him to use (though, if she was honest, she didn’t  _ dislike _ the look). He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, completely relaxed in this moment of intimacy. Out of all the moments they’d shared over the past couple years, this was the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him. 

He washed her hair for her as well, though it was a little more difficult with just the one hand, his fingers getting caught in the tangles. They had to keep their laughter quiet, the sounds feeling extra loud as they bounced around the bathroom. The shower took a little longer than either intended, but neither of them were upset about it. After a whole day celebrating their love, it was nice for them to be alone at last. 

“Hm. Today was a good day.” Mika whispered, stretching her arms over her head. They were now clean, dry, and dressed, ready to go to bed. “Though I do wish we had the house to ourselves tonight.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our own celebration.” he said, his tone laced with meaning. He held the covers back for her, letting her climb into bed first before he settled in next to her.

“Oh yea?” she asked, laying her head on his shoulder and intertwining their legs. He hummed lowly in agreement.

“Of course. Soon as this house is empty, you’re not leaving this bed for three days.” he said lightly, his tone not matching the naughty promise. She looked up at him.

“That implies that you  _ will _ be leaving the bed at some point during those three days.” she replied.

“Well, someone has to do the chores. And bring back food.” he said nonchalantly. Clearly he’d been thinking about this.

“And what will I be doing while you do all that?” she asked with a perked eyebrow. He gave her a Cheshire grin, and she knew whatever lame response he had, he was very proud of it.

“Recovering.” he said, actually making her jaw drop for a moment before she dissolved into giggles. He shushed her, muffling her laughter with his chest and pulling the covers over her head for good measure in an effort to subdue the noise. He was shaking with laughter as well, pressing his face into her still-wet hair to stifle it. When they finally settled, they listened, making sure no sounds were coming from the living room. Seemed everyone was still sleeping peacefully, and it was time for them to do the same. 

“Sleep well,  _ my darling _ .” she murmured, facing him and putting her hand on his cheek.

“And you,  _ my love _ .” he replied, kissing her gently before they settled back into the pillows, drifting off to sleep for the first time as man and wife.


	60. New Suit

_ Smack. _ “Ouch, fuck!” 

“C’mon, Barnes, you’re better than this.” Natasha teased, eyeing Mika with a Cheshire grin. Mika shot a glare in her direction, though her heart warmed at her calling her by her new last name. It had been over two months since their wedding, but everything still felt new and exciting. She hadn’t actually  _ legally _ changed her name yet, but figured since she really didn’t have current paperwork in general that it wasn’t a big concern. If or when they ever left Wakanda, then she would worry about it.

“I’m tired!” she whined, rubbing the area where Natasha had popped her with the baton. It wasn’t gonna bruise, but it certainly stung. Natasha lunged at her again, and she barely defended the attacks before they broke apart for a moment. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I bet you haven’t.” she said, her grin widening. She launched another barrage, and Mika used the last of her energy to respond, using her quickness to go on the offensive and land a solid hit on Natasha’s thigh. The assassin gave her a proud look, twirling the batons once as she eyed her.   
  
“Can we please get breakfast now?” Mika asked. She loved sparring with Natasha, but she wasn’t lying when she was tired. She’d been waking up a lot at night recently, which was unusual for her; she attributed it to the rising heat of the coming Wakanda summer. Once she got used to it (and convinced Bucky to lower the air conditioning a little bit), she would be fine. Natasha considered her question before holstering her weapons.

“I’ll allow it, just because that was a really good hit.” she replied. Mika smiled, dramatically tossing her own batons in the corner and slinging her arm around Natasha’s shoulders. She grew still, just like Bucky used to, before relaxing into the embrace.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite. Don’t tell Sam or Steve.” she said in Romanian, just in case the other two were listening. She scoffed, shaking her head.

“We all know Steve is your favorite, don’t even pretend.” she replied, following her into the kitchen to find Sam at the stove. Any time they visited, Bucky managed to rope Steve into assisting with morning chores. Sam, figuring he did enough hard labor chasing Steve’s ass around who-knows-where, always chose to sleep in and take over breakfast duties. As soon as they walked in, he handed them cups of coffee.

“You’re all my favorites.” Mika said sentimentally, placing an emphatic kiss on his cheek as she took the cup from him.

“Uh huh. Lies.” he said lowly, flipping pancakes on the large cast iron griddle over the burners. “Steve is your favorite, we all know it.”

“Only because he makes fun of Bucky so much.” she said with a shrug, putting milk and sugar into her coffee before setting it on the table and collapsing into a chair. Geeze, Natasha wore her out more than she thought.

“Oh yea, it has nothing to do with his looks or his star-spangled attitude.” Sam pointed out, plating the pancakes in a high stack. Natasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the man.

“Clearly she prefers the dark and brooding type.” she said, as if the fact were obvious. Sam rose his eyebrows, holding his arms out.

“Okay, none of y’all are darker than me.” he said, making Mika burst into laughter. Natasha kept a straight face, but the corner of her mouth was trembling. He turned to Mika, giving her an exaggeratedly seductive look and saying in an overly deep voice, “C’mon, girl, you want some of this?”

“Sam, stop hitting on my wife.” Bucky deadpanned, coming into the kitchen with Steve in tow. Luna immediately trotted to Sam’s side, looking up at him expectantly. He didn’t heed the eyes on him, taking the top pancake and handing it to her. The dog, happy with her score, trotted away before Bucky could move to take the treat from her.

“What, afraid she’ll realize my charm and leave your old ass?” he joked, picking up a knife and starting to run it through the pile of fruit on the island. Bucky gave an unamused huff of a laugh.

“If she left me for anyone, it would be Natasha.” he said, grabbing some water from the fridge and handing it to Steve. Sam and Natasha looked to her for confirmation, and she merely held her hands up as if to say  _ he’s not wrong _ . Natasha perked an eyebrow at that, making an interested noise in the back of her throat.

“And since when do you have charm?” Steve cut in, stealing a piece of fruit from dangerously close to Sam’s knife. The other man glared, brandishing the knife at him. Bucky’s attention stayed on it, and even if he knew Sam was just kidding, it still made him uneasy to see someone handling a blade so lightly and easily. 

“Hey, it’s hard to run game whenever I’m too busy making sure you don’t get us blown up. Or shot at. Or run over. Or-” he was interrupted by Natasha, who pushed the knife hand back to the cutting board and said,

“Hey now, don’t discredit me for my one job.” Sam stuck his tongue out at her before returning to his task, finishing everything up. The men carried all the food to the table, making Mika feel like a queen as they laid it all out in front of her. Bucky sat down next to her, and while she didn’t mind seeing him all hot and sweaty, it definitely took everything in her not to wrinkle her nose at the farm life smells that clung to him. She had to keep a straight face; after all, she’d spent over an hour working out with Natasha, and probably didn’t smell like spring flowers either. 

Breakfast was a loud affair, as it always was when their friends visited. It reminded Mika of when she was very young, when she and her sisters would be trying their best to talk over each other and fight for attention from their parents. There was considerably less talk of princesses and unicorns nowadays, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t her family. 

She was able to get out of dishes duty by using her time at the lab as an excuse. Usually she took the day if their friends were visiting, but Shuri was adamant that she needed to come in today, which meant that she made something that she was very, very excited about. The last time she’d insisted on Mika coming in, she’d created a true hoverboard like  _ Back to the Future _ , only this one could operate over water. She wondered what it would be this time.

She said her goodbyes to her friends and gave a kiss to Bucky before making her way into the city center, smiling and greeting the people that she knew as she climbed the stairs all the way up to the lab. The music was different today, and while she recognized it, she couldn’t quite place the tune. She barely had time to put her bag down before the Princess came swooshing in on her hoverboard, hopping off expertly and kicking it up into her hands. 

“Finally! What took you so long?” she said, her eyes bright. She grabbed Mika’s wrist and started dragging her away from her desk, not caring whether or not she was ready to move.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” she left the sentence hanging, realizing that Shuri was no longer listening.

“I meant to finish this as a wedding present.” she said, leading her to the back lab that held the largest sand pit. “But then I just kept thinking of more things to add to it and make it better and then-”

“Shuri, what have you made?” Mika asked lowly. The Princess was entirely too giving, that was true; but she’d seen the wild things her mind could cook up, and this was something either fantastic or terrifying. Shuri didn’t answer her, instead just directing her to a mannequin that wore black armor very similar to a certain Amazonian princess. 

“Ta da!” she exclaimed, gesturing grandly at it. Mika’s jaw dropped and she was actually rendered speechless as she walked up to it, admiring the armor. It was not leather, like it was supposed to be in the movie. Instead it was made of the same material that made up T’Challa’s Black Panther suit. “Now you can really be Wonder Woman!”

“This is incredible, Shuri!” Mika said, running her fingers over it. The suit hummed with the vibranium energy woven into it. Shuri actually squealed with excitement, coming up and tapping one of the gauntlets so that the all nanites crawled into a bracelet, which she unsnapped and handed to her.  _ That _ would be a convenient feature.

“Try it!” she said, watching as Mika slipped the bracelet on. She gave the Princess a grin before tapping it twice, the nanites immediately erupting from their home and crawling all over her until she was standing in the armor, complete with boots and tiara. Her tunic fell in tattered strips around her, but she didn’t focus on that. She couldn’t help but laugh, admiring how it looked and felt. It was a little tight, but not uncomfortable, likely due to the big breakfast she had that morning. Shuri took her hand again, leading her onto the platform.

“This is amazing.” she admired, still looking at the armor as Shuri retreated behind a clear barrier.

“And fully functional!” she exclaimed, calling up more barriers until Mika was completely surrounded. Mika was confused at that, her posture shifting just slightly. Why was Shuri imprisoning her? “Now, spin really fast!”

“What?” Mika said, sure she didn’t hear the girl correctly. Spin? Why?

“Just do it!” she said, exasperated, as if she were tired of people questioning her. Mika bit back a smart remark and did as the Princess asked, spinning so that the feathers of the pteruges rose around her. From the end of them, sharp nanite’s flew like tiny v-shaped birds, sailing into the barriers with an impressively loud noise. Mika stopped immediately, eyes wide as she took in their power.

“Shuri! Why would I ever need this?!” she asked. Here she thought it was just a fun costume; when the Princess had said ‘fully functional,’ she definitely had not envisioned this. Shuri shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t know. Just in case. You can turn all these features off of course, that way you don’t accidentally harm children at the autumn solstice. Or if you just feel like being particularly heroic at home.” she explained. Mika laughed and shook her head.

“You always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” she said as Shuri lowered the barriers again, stepping onto the platform with her.

“Of course I do. Someone needs to around here.” she said. She surprised Mika as she started hitting her bodice, and though the hits didn’t hurt, they were still alarming. Mika tried to dodge, but the Princess was quick. Quicker than expected.

“Stop that!” Mika said, feeling very much like she was whining at her younger sister. Shuri did stop hitting, but didn’t stop smiling, going back to her tablet and lifting up the barriers.

“I’m just trying to show you the best part!” she said. Mika looked down, noticing the purple lines of energy running through the armor, traveling into her gauntlets. She thought back to a year ago, when the then-Prince was given his new suit. Ah, so this is where she was going. Once the barriers were in place, Shuri grinned. “Make and X with your arms, then break it.” 

Mika couldn’t help but smile as she got into position, feeling as her gauntlets vibrated with potential energy. This was the closest thing she was going to get to the super strength that Bucky and Steve lived with, and it was  _ fun _ . She broke the X, watching as the energy sang out around her in a perfect arc. Again she laughed, completely astounded at what just happened.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, thankfully in Romanian (though Shuri definitely picked up the swear words in the other language remarkably fast). The walls lowered again, and Shuri danced onto the platform with her, obviously and rightfully very proud of herself.

“So? What do you think?” she asked, clasping her hands together. She was unable to stay still, shifting her weight back and forth as she awaited Mika’s appraisal.

“Shuri,” Mika began, pausing just long enough for Shuri’s fidgeting to double. “this is possibly the coolest thing anyone has ever made for me.”

“Just possibly?” she squeaked, looking affronted. Mika grinned, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m just kidding, of course this is the coolest thing ever!” she said, rocking her back and forth. “Thank you so, so much. I can’t wait to show Bucky, we just watched  _ Justice League _ the other day - oh wait, how do I turn it off attack mode?”

“Ah, yes, that would probably be a good thing to tell you.” she said, pulling away. The purple energy had returned thanks to the strength behind her embrace, the lines trailing like ants until the gauntlets glowed. Mika stood very still with her arms far apart, not sure how to dispel the energy without hurting the Princess. Shuri took her hand, turning it so the underside of the gauntlet faced up. She pointed out a long line with a purple spot at the end, a perfect circle on the other side. “You’re the only one who can turn it on and off - I figured that would be the best fail safe. Just touch here and drag it, then let it read your fingerprint.”

“Do I want to know how you got my fingerprint?” Mika said, putting her index finger on the purple light and dragging it to the circle. It beeped nearly immediately, the potential energy dispelling with a bit of heat. 

“Of course not.” Shuri said lightly, stepping back to admire her work. Mika struck a pose, admiring how oddly comfortable the suit was despite its tightness. As they laughed, she pulled the Princess in for another hug. 

“Thank you, Shuri. This is awesome.” she said. She kept her arms around her and swayed lightly. “I just have one issue.”

“What? What’s that?” Shuri asked. She could see the gears turning in the girl’s mind, trying to find any flaw in her design. Mika let her suffer a moment longer before saying,

“I didn’t bring a change of clothing.” she said, making the Princess dissolve into giggles. 

“Perhaps I should have warned you of that.” she replied. “I’ll have someone find you a new tunic. In the meantime, let’s play a little more, shall we?”

Mika grinned, backing away from her into the middle of the platform. Shuri grinned brightly, calling up the black sand around the edge so that it made a sword. She grabbed a hold of it and turned the suit back on, getting in a ready position as the sand formed the shape of a man that looked suspiciously like T’Challa. Even though she was still tired from her exercise this morning, she felt her second wind coming on. Perhaps she could wrestle up enough energy for one more round. 

The sand sprung to life, stalking towards with all the grace of a panther. Mika stepped to it, taking a swing with her sword. The sand easily blocked it, quickly swinging at her side. She dropped her arm, the gauntlet taking the force of the hit and absorbing the shock of it surprisingly easily. She kicked it up a notch, going on the offensive. The sand was able to land a few touches on her, but the nanites absorbed most of the energy, and once she was able to land a foot on his chest and send him backwards, she made the X with her arms and broke it, the energy blast completely obliterating him. Oh yes, this was definitely fun.

“You know,” Mika said, once she was out of breath and done fighting. “I think Natasha might like one of these.”

“Oh, I’m working on hers. She just has different needs than you.” Shuri said matter-of-factly, lowering the barriers around the platform. A lab technician walked in then, carrying a new tunic. She handed it off to the Princess, who quickly passed it on to her friend. Mika smiled.

“You’re always taking care of us, Shuri.” she said affectionately, suddenly overwhelmed with how much she cared for the girl. She resisted the urge to hug her again, instead gratefully taking the new covering from her. For the last time, Shuri raised the walls, this time making them completely opaque. Mika turned the kill mode off her suit before tapping the wrist, watching with fascination as the nanites once again crawled into bracelet form. She was tremendously uncomfortable being naked in the middle of Shuri’s lab despite the walls, and quickly pulled her new dress on before knocking on the walls. 

“Somebody’s got to take care of you all.” Shuri remarked once visible again. Mika ran her fingers over the new bracelet adorning her wrist; did she  _ need _ a super suit with Wakandan technology? No. But did she feel oddly proud to have it?  _ Absolutely _ . 

The hours seemed to drag by as she did her work at her station. She was so excited to show off her new gear, knowing that Bucky would appreciate both how it could protect her and also the aesthetic. When she finally reached the end of her day, she rushed out of the lab but forced herself to drive safely through the busy streets, her thumbs tapping quickly on the steering wheel as she navigated through the traffic. She hummed along to the song on the radio, her energy starting to return despite the fatigue that had been plaguing her all day. It was time for round two, and this time Natasha was not going to win. 

Her heart fell and she couldn’t help but pout as she pulled up to their house, noticing that the vehicle their friends usually came in was not in its usual spot. She got out of the car and walked up the front porch, but noticed that Bucky wasn’t in the house. Instead, he was down underneath the tree, hanging out with the kids who still periodically came to check on him. A quick check from the front door as she sat her purse down inside told her that Bucky wasn’t the only one out - the entire house was empty except for Luna asleep in the living room. She made her way down to the tree, the kids’ faces lighting up as they spotted her.

“Birdie!” they cried, getting up and running to her. She wasn’t exactly sure how Bucky managed to get them to call her that, but she wasn’t complaining. She bent down to accept their tiny embraces and messy kisses on her cheek, laughing as they all talked to her at once. When she finally escaped from their clutches, she was able to finally greet Bucky.

“Everyone leave?” she asked, giving him a soft kiss. He nodded.

“Some emergency.” he explained, pulling her in for another kiss. He then dropped his eyes to her outfit, his brows furrowing. “That’s not what you were wearing this morning.”

“Had a wardrobe mishap.” she explained, holding up her wrist to show off her bracelet. “Shuri had a new present for me. I’ll show it to you later.”

He made a curious noise and coupled it with a grin, turning his attention to the kids. “Do you want to show her what you’ve been working on?” 

Mika perked an eyebrow, looking at their adopted niece and nephews. They suddenly looked quite shy, wringing their hands and shifting their weight back and forth, their eyes anywhere but on her. Bucky knelt down in front of them, murmuring quietly, “Go on, you’re ready.” They all made noises that disagreed with him, mumbling so that she couldn’t hear. Whatever they said, Bucky understood, and after a low laugh he started leading them in whatever they’d learned.

Mika covered her mouth with her hand both to hide her laughing and her almost-tears as the kids slowly and carefully stumbled through the numbers one through ten - in Romanian. It was a little thing, really, but for some reason it struck something in her heart. It reminded her vaguely of her own baby sister, finally learning her numbers in school.

“That was perfect!” she said encouragingly as they finished, kneeling down next to them. “Has White Wolf been teaching you?”

“Yes.” they chorused, embarrassed by the praise and attention they were giving them. Bucky smiled.

“And what else have we learned?” he asked, leading them once again. They smiled and giggled, once again crawling on top of her as they tried their best to say  _ I love you _ in Romanian. Mika laughed again, if only to cover up the tears that sprang to her eyes. It was one of the more adorable things she’d seen in her entire life.

“And I love you too.” she said slowly in Romanian, hoping that they understood her sentiments even if they didn’t understand her words. They hugged her tightly, saying their newfound phrase over and over. Their voices were too loud in her ears and their hands too tight, but she didn’t care. She just held them tighter to her until they were giggling and trying to squirm out of her embrace. 

“Now, go on home. It’s almost supper time.” Bucky said once they’d escaped their prison of affection. They all said their goodbyes before scampering off to the path that led back to their village, their voices carrying the sounds of numbers in broken Romanian until they were too far away to be heard. 

“You’ve been busy, I see.” she commented as they walked back up to the house. He shrugged.

“Figured it never hurt to learn another language.” he explained. She tucked her hand into his elbow, leaning close to him so she could rest her cheek on his shoulder as they walked. 

“Not a bad idea.” she agreed. “If we have kids, what languages will we teach them?” The question was out of her mouth before she registered she was asking it, and she silently grimaced; they’d just gotten married, no need to have the kids discussion yet.

Luckily, Bucky didn’t seem to mind. “Well Romanian, of course. So they can talk to your mother.” he started, and she nearly choked on the swell of emotion bubbling in her chest. “And English, so they can talk to Steve and Sam. And then maybe German, so they can make fun of you with your sister.”

“Hey!” she chided, pinching the sensitive skin of his inner arm. He jerked at the pain, but she held tightly, preventing him from escaping. “That’s not fair. The only other language I know is Russian, and I refuse to teach them that.”

“Good. Me too.” he said, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. He stopped her as they reached the front porch, his expression suddenly serious. “Now if something...if something’s wrong with me, if we can’t…” he left the sentence hanging, unable to speak of one of his deepest concerns. He opened his mouth to continue on, but Mika interrupted him with a smile and a kiss.

“Then we adopt.” she said shortly. Then she tilted her head to the side. “Or, we can just get more dogs!”

“We are not getting more dogs.” Bucky said, his heart rate returning to normal now that the hurdle was crossed. “You and Luna already take up way too much of the bed.”

“There’s plenty of room for more.” she said, opening the door and leading him inside.

“The dog isn’t even supposed to be on the bed.” he reminded her.

“How can you say no to her little face?” Mika asked, putting her hands on the cheeks of said dog and lifting her head from the couch so she could kiss her. Luna didn’t move at all, the only sign of life being her tail thumping against the cushions.

“Easily. One of us has to.” he deadpanned.

“Oh good, you can be the tough parent then.” she replied with a grin, making him roll his eyes.

“Weren’t you going to show me something?” he asked, changing the subject. Her eyebrow twitched, but she allowed the change. She held up her new bracelet.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” she answered his question with another question, giving him a seductive smile. His face changed ever so slightly, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

“I’m always ready.” he replied. She tapped the bracelet twice, ruining a second tunic of the day as the nanites ran over her body and formed the armor. Bucky’s jaw literally dropped, his eyes scanning every inch of her as she stood in a heroic pose. “Wow.” he breathed, his gaze still roaming so that he didn’t see the wide grin on her face. Good. That was exactly the reaction she wanted. 

“Now, good knight, take me to our chambers.” she said in her best impression of royalty. He grinned, his eyes darkening at the order.

“Yes, princess.” he said, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to their bedroom. Turns out, the easy on-off feature was  _ just _ as handy as she thought it would be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm planning out the rest of the story through infinity war and beyond - would y'all be interested in seeing short arcs with other characters (i.e. steve or sam)? or are y'all strictly here for bucky content? let me know!
> 
> and thank you so so so much for the comments, they fuel me and y'all are amazing.


	61. Invasion

Mika used to think that she thrived in the summer. But summer in Wakanda was certainly different than summer in Romania.

Granted, she had already lived through one of them, and besides a short bout of “summer sickness” (apparently a version of influenza that tended to arrive with the heat), she’d done alright. But this year it was even hotter, and she felt like the air conditioning to their little house was constantly on overdrive trying to keep up. They’d even had to start cold brewing their coffee and drinking it iced, which was something that neither one of them thought they would ever have to do. 

“Maybe you should go see Lwazi, make sure you don’t have the flu again.” Bucky said. They were sitting and eating breakfast, Mika leaning her head against her hand as she slowly nursed her cereal and coffee. The heat was still keeping her up at night, and it was starting to piss her off. She nodded, agreeing with his statement.

“I guess it would be good to get the medicine now instead of two weeks in.” she replied. She hated to bother their friend in the medical bay since he had much more important things to do, but she did not want to go through the same ordeal she did last summer. 

“Want me to go with you?” he asked. Something was different about this time, and he wanted to make sure she was okay. This time she shook her head.

“I’ll be okay. You’ve got the kids to take care of.” she said with a grin. Two new baby goats had arrived over the past couple weeks, and were proving to be very mischievous and quite the handful. One had already escaped, but luckily did not want to leave its companion, and instead had stood at the fence and screamed until Bucky figured out what was happening. It took him a few days to find all the spots the tiny goats could escape through, and board them up. 

“Well, call me if it’s anything serious.” he said. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand, letting her fingers linger for a moment before pulling away with a sigh.

“I will. Guess if I want to stop by the lab before I go, I better get on with it.” she said, reluctantly standing up and gathering her dishes. Really she just wanted to stay home today, but Bucky was right - she needed to see the doctor, plus Shuri apparently had an update for her fancy Wonder Woman suit already. She quickly changed and pulled her hair up, also taking a moment to put Bucky’s hair half-up before kissing him goodbye for the day. He held her wrist and pulled her back for an extra kiss; for some reason, something felt off about today. 

The lab was surprisingly empty when she arrived. Usually there were a few early birds, tucked away at their desks as they finalized projects before the Princess got in. But today, she was alone, and for a moment she thought perhaps there was a holiday that she’d forgotten about. She wandered to Shuri’s desk, which had a box with a mold the exact shape of her bracelet. She should wait for her to do the upgrades, she knew that...but who knew when she would arrive? And even then, she would get roped into something else, and never end up going to see the doctor. With a sigh and a silent apology to Shuri, she slipped the bracelet into its home, pressing the right buttons and waiting as the machine whirred to life. Lines of code ran across the clear screen in front of her, bits and pieces of it editing in real time. The diagram of a sword and shield popped up, then dissolved into the lines necessary to make them a reality. Ah, so she was getting weapons today? That was definitely something new. Did Shuri know something she didn’t?

When the machine beeped and her bracelet popped out of its home, she took it and slid it on. It felt slightly heavier than before; that must be the nanites for her sword and shield. She thought of trying them out right then, but remembered that she didn’t have a change of clothes with her, and that while Shuri would forgive her for updating it on her own, she would definitely not forgive her for trying it out before she got there. The lab was still empty, which was unnerving at this point, so Mika decided that would be a good time to go over to the medical bay. 

The medical bay was also nearly empty when she arrived, which once again made her wonder if she was missing something. But no, she was just early. Lwazi sat at his desk in the corner, eyeglasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he looked over a page of numbers on his tablet. He looked up as she approached, grinning as he recognized her.

“Ah, so we haven’t built up the immunity to the summer sickness yet, hm?” he asked, looking way too at ease about it. Mika sighed dramatically, laying down on the nearest bed as if it would carry her to her death.

“My weak Romanian bones can’t handle it. Just let my end be merciful.” she said, holding out her arm as if for a lethal injection. Lwazi chuckled at her theatrics, pushing back from his table and going to the cart with all his supplies.

“Well, let’s see what strain you have, then we can make the medication to go with it.” he said, pulling out a stethoscope. He held it to various points on her chest and back, listening to her breath sounds and her heartbeat. He checked her temperature - which was slightly elevated - before asking the traditional questions. Nausea? Vomiting? Headache? Rash? Chills? Fatigue? Sometimes, no, no, no, the opposite, all the time it seems like. Coughing? Sneezing? In the mornings, no. Once he was satisfied that nothing seemed serious, he pulled out a syringe, cleansing an area of her arm so that he could draw blood.

Just as the needle pierced her skin, a commotion broke out in the hallway. Mika jumped, letting out very ladylike grunt as the needle dug into her against Lwazi’s wishes. He gave her a stern look over the top of his glasses, and she sighed and relaxed, not giving in to her instinct to try and eavesdrop on the hallway and instead letting him put the needle in again. He drew her blood into a vial before removing the needle, disposing of it and readying the vial for reading. 

“Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, will you still be here?” he asked. Before she could answer, another person stepped into the room. He was dressed like a soldier, and immediately Lwazi’s demeanor changed. This, of course, put Mika on edge. What did this guy want with Lwazi?

“Mrs. Barnes?” he asked, his voice low. Oh shit, he was looking for Mika? She ran through the last couple days, trying to think if she’d accidentally done something illegal. Nothing came to mind, it had been a normal few days. Her stomach sank; what if they decided that Bucky had to leave?

“Um, yes?” she said, trying to sound confident even though her voice cracked with her nerves. She looked to Lwazi, but he didn’t seem to have any more information than she did.

“Come with me. You’re to meet your husband and Captain Rogers here shortly. Dr. Ama, you are to prepare the bay for triage.” he said. No introductions, no details, nothing. Just the simple instruction. She nodded dumbly, her fingers picking nervously at the bandage on her elbow. When had Lwazi put it there? She stood up, turning to address the man.

“Thank you, for your help.” she said softly. He looked just as unnerved as she felt. “Um, don’t worry about the medicine for now I guess. Something’s…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. She didn’t have any more knowledge on the situation than he did. He nodded, grasping her hand softly.

“Be safe, I’ll see you soon.” he said, going into business mode. She gave him a weak smile before going to follow the nameless soldier, wondering what exactly in the hell was going on. 

Across the city, Bucky was out at the farm, removing the last of the used bedding from the barn. The goats were out grazing by the big tree, completely content and minding their own business for once. They would need a fresh layer of hay and shavings before nightfall. He grabbed the middle of the wheelbarrow, dragging it behind him down to the tree. He muttered to the goats, gently pushing them aside with his foot as they tried to see what was in the barrow. He finally gave up, leaving it in the middle of them and figuring he could easily toss things into it from that distance. Of course, once he got to the pile of hay and shavings, the goats completely lost interest, going back to their nibbling and their playing. One by one, he started throwing the bags into the barrow. He paused as he heard a rumbling in the distance; it was not the sound of Mika’s vehicle, nor the one that Steve and his cohort usually borrowed. This one was different. He paused, trying to place the distinctive sound. Once he recognized that it was the King’s vehicle, he returned to his task. T’Challa never called on them without a warning; this was not going to end well.

The vehicle stopped at the top of the hill. The King and Okoye got out of the cab, and a small group of soldiers dressed in purple spilled out of the bed of the truck. Bucky watched as they walked down the hill, one of them carrying a large case, wordlessly placing it on top of the wheelbarrow once they arrived. He didn’t like the look of that at all. T’Challa and Okoye didn’t say anything, just waiting for him to see what it was. 

“My sister wanted you to know she made some...aesthetic adjustments.” T’Challa said softly. Bucky finally saw the contents, the dark vibranium of the arm shining in the bright sunlight. On the fourth finger of the left hand there was a golden band, beautifully etched. He wanted to smile at the sentiment, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. The King was calling in on Bucky’s debt, as he had every right to. At least he didn’t look happy about it.

“Where’s the fight?” he asked lowly. He knew this day would come, he just selfishly hoped that it would come a little later.

“On its way here.” he replied. Bucky nodded, finally looking to the King.

“And where’s Mika?” he asked this time. He had to make sure she was safe first.

“Waiting for you at the palace.” he said. He pulled out another package, this one with clothing and boots. He gave a wry smile as he said, “Captain Rogers informed me that if you’re going to fight a war, you need to wear a uniform.”

“Yea, well, he’s always been a little overdramatic.” Bucky deadpanned. He laid his hand on the arm, knowing that it was going to work perfectly. The uniform was likely laced with vibranium too, and would protect him with whatever they were going to face. He didn’t need to know who they were fighting, he didn’t really care. He just wanted to get it over with so he could get on with his life,  _ their _ life. So he took the uniform and the arm and donned them like the good soldier he used to be, taking a moment to feel out the mechanics of it. Now that he was alone and resigned to what was about to happen, he took a moment to admire the arm. It really was an incredible feat of engineering, feeling almost as if it were his own limb. Plus, it was nice to be wearing a wedding ring on the correct hand. He allowed himself one small smile at it before putting his serious face back on, going back outside and getting back in the car with the King.

It was a quiet ride into the city center, and a quick lift in the elevator to the helipad. T’Challa gave him the details of what was happening in a succinct manner, but Bucky barely listened to the mission report. His priorities were simple: find Mika, get her to safety, kill any fucking alien that tried to come within a ten kilometer radius of her. All that mattered was that she lived; as far as he was concerned, without her, he didn’t really want to be part of the world anymore anyway.

She met them at the elevator, wringing her hands as she waited for the doors to open. As soon as they were clear, she was in his arms, and he relished in the feeling of holding her with two hands. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of her hair and the pressure of her arms around him and the beat of her heart against his sternum. He wanted to make sure, if this was the last time he saw her, that it would be a moment to remember. She pulled back and opened her mouth to ask a question - probably to find out what was going on - but he interrupted her with a kiss. He didn’t want to tell her, not yet. He wanted one more moment of blissful happiness before he went off to fight. God, what he would have given to have her back in 1943. Maybe, if he’d had her to come home to, he might have done things differently. Or maybe things would have ended up exactly the same, and she would’ve been left heartbroken and alone. He steeled his resolve then; he wasn’t fighting to the death anymore, he was fighting for his life. He had to come back to her. 

“That bad, huh?” she asked, finally breaking their kiss. He nodded, swallowing before answering her.

“Worse, probably.” he admitted. The sound of an aircraft landing broke their embrace, and they gave each other one last look before going out to meet Steve. 

T’Challa and the Dora Milaje went ahead of them to greet those on the aircraft, and Mika was surprised to see Wanda, Vision, and two other people she didn’t recognize file out of the cabin behind Steve, Natasha, and Sam. She thought one of the guys was the one who turned into the Hulk, but she didn’t remember ever seeing the other one. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but Bucky could, a grin on his face as they walked up to them.

“And a semi-stable hundred year old man.” he remarked, putting on quite a brave face for the discussion they’d just been having.

“And his slightly more stable thirty-something wife.” Mika added. Steve gave them a half-grin, not quite as good at faking his emotions as Bucky was. He greeted Bucky first, pulling him into a hug.

“How ya been, Buck?” he asked, patting him on the shoulder. Bucky gave a shrug.

“Not bad, for the end of the world.” he said. Mika thought she was the only one who could see the tension in his back, the way his new hand was clenching and unclenching. He was nervous, really nervous. Steve turned to her.

“And you?” he asked, accepting her embrace and kiss on his cheek. Behind him, another soldier handed Bucky a new gun. It looked pretty fancy, and she hoped it was extra powerful. 

“Making it. Could be worse, all things considered.” she said. She was determined to be brave, just like Bucky. She had the distinct feeling that Steve saw right through her. “You?”

“Same.” he said. “But hey, we’ll get through this.”

“If you say so.” Mika said. T’Challa came up then, putting a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Your friend will be in my sister’s lab by now. Come, time is not a luxury for us right now.” he said. He was in full on King mode, which Mika appreciated. It helped to have someone with some semblance of a plan, someone who could give out orders. She could follow instructions, it was one of her strengths. A look from Steve told them to stay here, and Mika was glad that they got to wait with Sam and the other guy she didn’t know instead of going in for whatever serious conversation awaited the others.

“Go home. Wait for me there. Don’t leave for anything, okay?” Bucky said. Her face turned to alarm, and then she physically balked.

“What? No. Absolutely not.” she said, shaking her head. Sam and the other guy eyed each other before trying to stealthily move away, pretending they weren’t eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Mika-”

“No, no! You left me one time, a year ago, and that was horrible. I am not leaving you this time.” she said sharply. She tried to keep her voice low, but she had no doubt she was speaking louder than she meant to, trying to hear herself over the pounding in her ears. 

“This is not a discussion.” he said. He hated to talk to her this way, but he didn’t have time to gently convince her otherwise. “This isn’t sparring with me, or Natasha, or with the sand pit. This is the end of the world, Mika.”

“If the world is ending, I want to end it with you.” she said. She didn’t hold him, didn’t touch him. That wouldn’t help right now. She balled her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. “You trained me yourself. I’m going into this fight with you.”

“Absolutely not.” he said shortly. Keep her safe,  _ keep her safe _ .

“This is not a discussion.” she retorted, her eyes blazing. 

“No.” he said through clenched teeth. “I can’t lose you. I  _ won’t _ .”

“I won’t lose you either!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She had to stay strong, had to stay brave. She would  _ not _ be left behind this time, not when she could actually help. Unfortunately, her emotions were so strong and so mixed up that her body was choosing to form tears, which definitely did not help her argument. “I can’t sit back and wait and hope you live again, Bucky. I can’t.”

“And I can’t risk you getting hurt. What if something happens and I can’t protect you? It’ll end me.” he countered. Why must she be so stubborn? Why didn’t she see that this wasn’t one of their little games? She gave him an unnerving smile, holding up her arm to show her black bracelet.

“You don’t have to protect me. Shuri already has.” she said. He gave her a pointed look, trying his best not to roll his eyes.

“A costume is not-” he started, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that it was fully functional armor? With weapons included?” she said, sounding entirely too proud of the fact. She held up said weapons, the vibranium humming with her movements. The sword was sharp, and the shield sturdy. His face darkened another shade.

“I don’t care. It’s too risky.” he said, though he could feel his resolve waning. She had a point, but he was not ready to concede yet. If he was able to convince her to stay away, even just to stay at the palace with Shuri, then that would be better.

“Bucky, you can take me with you, or I can sneak down there on my own.” she said. It was an empty threat, but the conviction in her voice was just convincing enough to give him second thoughts. Her sneaking onto a battlefield to be with him was definitely within the realm of possibilities. He sighed, his resolve cracking.

“Do not take any risks. And do  _ not _ leave my sight. Do you understand?” he said. He couldn’t help feeling like this was a bad idea, a horrible idea, but what alternative did he have? Leave her to her own devices?  _ Fuck _ no.

“Affirmative.” she said. She didn’t have a smile on her face, despite winning the discussion. The gravity of the situation was settling in. This was going to be dangerous, more dangerous than anything she’d ever done in her entire life. But she didn’t regret her decision; she was not going to leave him, not now, not when they needed each other most. He put his hand on her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. 

“You’re not allowed to get hurt. You realize that, right?” he said softly. He’d gone into the day knowing something felt wrong, and now it was all coming into fruition. He just hoped the bad feeling would stop with the impending invasion. 

“Same goes for you.” she replied. He ground his teeth, obviously still not approving of this plan, but she stared at him, steadfast in her resolve. If they were going to go, they were going to go together. 

“You two done yet?” Sam called, adjusting his wings. “It’s gettin’ real weird.”

“Shut up.” Bucky said, once again putting on the front. Sam just smirked at her.

“Staying with us?” he asked, a challenge in his voice. Mika nodded, trying to appear more courageous than she felt.

“Someone has to get things done.” she said, making him raise one eyebrow.

“Dressed in that?” he asked, gesturing to her tunic dress. This time, she couldn’t help but grin. 

“Of course not.” she said, tapping her bracelet twice. It sprang to life, the nanites forming her armor, shield, and sword. Her skin buzzed with adrenaline and energy from the vibranium. The armor was definitely more reinforced, the sword light and strong and the shield wide and sturdy. She’d never felt more powerful in her life. Sam’s jaw dropped.

“Hot damn.” Sam said, looking down at his own uniform. “I gotta get me something new. Everyone else is getting all fancy.”

“We make it through today, I’ll make sure you get one just like it.” she said, twirling the sword to feel its weight. It sang just like the ones she used when practicing with Kanoni. 

“You think you playing, but I am completely secure in my masculinity and would, in fact, wear that.” he countered. Bucky rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that the others couldn’t catch. “What?”

“I said,” Bucky spoke louder now, “that you’re full of shit.”

Sam opened his mouth to retort, but a low rumbling echoed above them. A giant, fiery object was soaring towards them, appearing to move at a dragging pace even though it had to be traveling hundred of miles per hours. He raised a hand to his ear, activating his comms. 

“Hey Cap, we got a situation here.” he said, all joking gone from his voice. They watched as the fiery craft sailed down towards them, looking like it was heading straight for them. Mika held her breath; whatever time they thought they had, it was up. The thing hit the barrier of Wakanda, exploding on impact with its pieces showering down like fiery confetti. The sky sparkled as the barrier activated, protecting its citizens from the assault.

“God, I love this place.” Bucky said, more to himself than anyone. He chanced a glance at Mika, who smiled back at him. She loved it too, and it was time for them to defend it. 

“Don’t celebrate yet, guys.” the other guy said, activating a suit that looked like a gunmetal version of Iron Man’s. Mika still hadn’t learned his name. Why hadn’t she asked his name? “We got more incoming outside the dome.”

“How strong do you think the dome is?” Mika asked lowly. Bucky gave her a half smile, though there was still a little bit of sadness in his eyes, hesitance in his demeanor.

“Hopefully strong enough.” he replied, adjusting his hold on his gun. The falling stars sailing through the sky hit the ground with decisive  _ booms _ that shook the ground underneath them. As the dust cleared, they saw giant obelisks planted in the distance, their dark shapes shifting under the hot African sun. Mika sucked in a breath, trying to restart her heart.  _ I want to be here _ , she reminded herself.  _ I need to be here _ . 

“Time to form the lines.” came Steve’s voice. He seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the lines of his face set as he gazed out at the horizon. Bucky nodded, looking to Mika. She could see the question in his eyes, asking without words one last time for her to run and hide. But she wasn’t going to, not this time. This time, she was staying with him to fight. She drew up to her full height, looking away from Bucky before he could convince her otherwise and instead looking to Steve.

“Tell us where to go.” she said. He reached into his pocket, handing them small communication devices. She slipped it into her ear without hesitation, though her hand shook as she tried to fit it properly. She always wondered what she was training for. Turns out, an alien invasion was it. 

The city moved with incredible precision as the citizens evacuated and the armies took their place. Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Mika all stayed with T’Challa, looking out over the plain separating them from the growing forces tumbling from the obelisks. In front of the melee, three beings walked in a way that suggested leadership, going right up to the barrier and waiting. Mika had seen enough science fiction movies to know this was when they would make their demands, and that this was when the human race would decide to fight for their home - or die trying.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asked lowly once Steve and T’Challa were out of earshot. Mika gulped, trying to wet her dry throat so that her voice would be steady when she answered.

“Positive.” she said. It was the truth. She had no desire to leave him...but that didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified. “Are you scared?”

“Incredibly.” he said in a way that implied it was a good thing. To him, the fear meant that this time he was fighting as himself, fighting for those that he loved, rather than under orders. “Fear is what keeps you alive.”

“Then I’m going to be just fine.” she said, though the sarcasm fell flat. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, dropping one hand from his gun so that he could grip hers. She held his tightly, her fingers cracking with the way she squeezed. “Barnes, if you die, I will bring you back to life just so I can kill you myself, do you understand?”

“Same goes for you, Barnes.” he replied. This time, she didn’t get the flurry of happiness at the shared last name. This time, icy dread just settled deep into her stomach. But at least they were together, she thought. At least this time, they could have each other’s backs. 

The comm crackled in her ear, and she waited for orders from Steve, but instead she heard the quiet voice of Lwazi. “Mika?” he asked, hesitant, as if afraid he’d dialed the wrong number on the telephone. She held a finger to her ear, activating it. Bucky hadn’t moved; she was the only one he was talking to. 

“Yes?” she said, just as quietly. Bucky turned his head slightly, but she didn’t think he could hear the conversation.

“I got your results.” he said. How could he be worried about the flu at a time like this?

“It’s okay, Lwazi, the adrenaline will carry me through. I’ll start the medicine right after this, I swear. I’ll be your best patient ever.” she said, her nerves showing as she rambled into the comm.

“No, Mika, you don’t have summer sickness.” he said, making her pause. What would make him so concerned then? “You’re pregnant.”


	62. Not The Time

_ “Mika, you’re pregnant.” _

The world went silent, and the only thing she heard was the words rolling around in her head.  _ You’re pregnant _ . But how did that happen? Well, she knew the mechanics of how it happened but...her hand went to her arm, feeling the little plastic rod that her doctor had given her years ago for birth control. It was supposed to last for five years, wasn’t it? So she should be good until…

She counted backwards, remembering when she got it exactly. No, she didn’t have nine more months with it. It had expired three months ago. And like an idiot, she’d completely forgotten about it. Lwazi was still talking, though she only heard bits and pieces of what he was saying. Something about  _ very early _ and  _ only five weeks _ , the words echoing in one ear and out the other. This was supposed to be good new, happy news. She should be crying, telling Bucky, celebrating. They actually could have kids, together, if they wanted to. She glanced over to her husband, but he still stared straight ahead as if he were trying to hear the conversation they were having down at the border. What would he say, if he knew? She opened her mouth to tell him, but Steve, T’Challa, and Natasha all turned around, beginning their return to the lines. It was too late now.

“Thank you, Lwazi.” she said instead, keeping her voice even. It was easier than she expected, likely due to the fact that her heart had completely stopped. What was she supposed to do? It didn’t even seem real, if she was honest. She subtly ran her hand over her stomach; there wasn’t any sort of bulge, it was still just as flat as usual. Perhaps the doctor was wrong? They couldn’t tell things this early, right?

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, once again just looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Her blood ran cold, but she forced herself to calm down. Now was not the time. The world was literally ending, right in front of them. So she nodded, regaining the trust in her voice.

“Soon as this is over, it’s bed rest, medication, and you making me soup.” she replied. It wasn’t technically a lie, she supposed. It just wasn’t the whole truth. He stared at her a moment longer, and she wondered if he could sense her equivocation. But she stared ahead, purposefully keeping her eyes on their friends until they were right next to them. 

“They surrender?” Bucky asked as Steve got back into line with them. He gave a tired sigh. 

“Not exactly.” Steve replied. Weird creatures began spilling out of the obelisk, their snarls sounding even from this far away.  _ What the hell?  _ T’Challa began leading the war chants of Wakanda, and even if she was not Wakandan, they still served to lift her spirits and garner her courage. She was surrounded by warriors, and it was time for her to be one too. She shoved what she just learned out of her mind; pregnant or not, it would not matter if she didn’t make it off of this battlefield. She couldn’t turn away now, even though she knew Bucky would be furious if he knew. The enemy was here, and it was time to fight. 

The creatures started running, a loping gait on all fours like mutated dogs. “What the hell?” Bucky said, for once not hiding an ounce of what he was feeling. Mika couldn’t help but agree, though her voice was caught in her chest. Instead, she gripped her sword tighter, stamping her feet to wake them up after standing in one spot for so long. 

“Looks like we pissed her off.” Natasha said, no laughter meeting her remark. The aliens slammed into the barrier, attacking it with an animalistic ferocity that Mika wasn’t prepared for. They were able to break through bits and pieces of the wall, but it immediately reformed around them, severing limbs like a hot knife through butter. A change in the breeze brought the scent of burning flesh up to them, making her stomach roll. God, this really was the end of the world, wasn’t it?

The beasts didn’t care about pain, a few of them making it through with missing body parts and burnt skin, galloping towards them at tremendous speed. T’Challa called the soldiers to order, the front lines raising their shields and the spearmen launching blue blasts at the oncoming monsters. Bucky raised his gun, training his eye through the sight and firing in short bursts, grounding any beast that had the misfortune of coming into his crosshairs. Sam and Not Iron Man came blasting through from above, taking more out before they could even make it as far in as their counterparts. Mika’s grip was sweaty on her sword, but she was ready. The beasts were big, and could run fast, but they weren’t agile. She was. Bucky had told her on multiple occasions that that was her biggest weapon; things can’t harm what they can’t catch. 

She tried to hold on to that positive fact as one by one, more aliens broke through the barrier. This made her nervous, for more than just the obvious reason. If they were getting in here, what was to stop them from getting in other parts of the city?

“Cap, if these things circle the perimeter and get in behind us, there’s nothing between them and Vision.” the man who usually was The Hulk voiced her unspoken concerns, his tone strangely metallic from inside the massive red mecha suit he had. 

“Then we better keep ‘em in front of us.” Steve stated. She did not like the sound of that  _ at all _ . 

“How do we do that?” Okoye said, her voice barely loud enough for Mika to hear. She chanced a glance at the King, her veins turning to lead as he said exactly what she was afraid of.

“We open the barrier.” he said, resigned. This was not how this fight was supposed to go, but it’s what they had to do to protect those in the lab. He put his finger to his comm, telling whoever was on the other side which section to open. Mika’s fingers shook on the sword, and she gripped it tighter, trying to still her muscles. 

“You go for the kill, okay?” Bucky said, his voice stern. She nodded. He was right, this wasn’t sparring for fun, it was now fighting for their lives. She wanted to take one last moment, to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him she loved him. But she couldn’t, not now. T’Challa gave the signal, the soldiers dropping their shields. With one last battle cry, they took off at a sprint towards the edge of the dome, and one sliver of barrier faded away.

Then, all hell broke loose.

When Mika was a kid, her father had bought all three of them foam swords and sent them out into the backyard to play. Nicoletta quickly lost interest, instead opting to be the princess for whom her sisters were fighting. Mika and Raisa took turns being the evil witch and the brave sibling knight, come to reclaim her sister’s honor. The battles were always grueling and rough and epic, the two of them fighting much more tenaciously than any of the boys in their neighborhood. Their mother always lamented the bruises and cuts they had afterwards, but they didn’t care. They just smiled at each other and basked in Nicoletta’s dramatic retellings over supper.

This fight was nothing like that.

Bucky had told her to go for the kill, and she definitely did. The sword Shuri had given her was sharp and dense, the nanites cutting into the aliens as if they were nothing. They were massive, even bigger than she anticipated, but that meant she was able to get underneath them and drive the sword into their bellies. The first one scared her, as she drove her sword in to the hilt and proceeded to get it stuck. Blind panic gripped her for a moment as she realized this was it, she was going to lose her weapon and be done for in less than a second. But she gripped the handle hard as the monster fell over, the end of it finally loosening from whatever bone she’d stuck it into and sliding out with a disgusting  _ squelch _ . 

So, avoid bones. Good thing to learn. She filed it away, taking her sword and driving it into another one as it ran by. She could hear the steady  _ pop-pop-pop-pop-pop  _ of Bucky’s gun close by, reassuring her that he was still alive, still fighting. She stayed close to him, as instructed, covering his blind spots and trying to keep the slower prowlers away. But then they started to see what was going on, a few smarter ones realizing what was happening and forming a circle around them. Mika stood with her back against Bucky’s, her sword and shield at the ready, mirroring his movements as he shot them one by one. His efforts were in vain, as another one filled the spot every time he took one down. 

“You know,” she said, yelling over the sound of the bedlam around them. “My skirt can shoot knives if I spin very dramatically.”

“And you waited until now to tell me this?” Bucky called back, still methodically taking the aliens out one by one. “Count of three.”

“Better make sure you’re below my waistline.” she said, thinking of his safety. She could have sworn she heard a brief, dry chuckle at the possibilities for a lewd joke, but Bucky refrained.

“One, two, three!” he yelled, dropping down to one knee. Mika didn’t even think, turning on her heel until she felt the feathers of her skirt vibrate as it released the v-shaped projectiles. They were even more effective than she originally thought, the points going straight through the aliens and letting loose an electric charge, taking them down.  _ That _ was a new feature. 

She was dizzy when she stopped, the area around them open for a few minutes. She tried to catch her breath, looking down at Bucky as he returned to his full height. He put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she focused on his eyes.

“That was impressive.” he said, smirking. The world finally stopped spinning, and she took a long breath. 

“I don’t think I should do it again though.” she said, her stomach still rolling. That’s when the thought came back, that there might be another reason for her nausea. Bucky looked at her seriously, as if he knew she had a secret. But he didn’t ask anything.

“No, you shouldn’t.” he agreed. His eyes flitted up, and he shoved her behind him, raising his gun and taking out a coming alien. And just like that, they were back in it. Bolstered with a little more confidence, Mika widened her radius, trying to help their nearby allies as best she could. The sounds of Bucky’s gun were a reassuring staccato in the background, telling her his relative position, and that he was still alive. Keep going. One more. Take down one more. 

Then, suddenly, the popping stop. She turned to see Bucky on his back, his gun out of reach, and an alien on top of him. He was barely holding it back with his metal arm, the other hand sinking a knife into its neck over and over. She ran over to him, climbing up the back of the alien and driving her sword into it. It immediately stopped fighting, rolling off of Bucky and nearly taking her down in the process. She barely regained her balance and jogged to him, offering a hand to pull him up.

“Alright there, Barnes?” she asked, pretending that this wasn’t the scariest thing she’d ever done in her entire life, as if this whole thing wasn’t a nightmare.

“Never better.” he said, picking up his gun and immediately shooting an alien behind her. Her ears rang from the close position, but she barely winced. 

“Good. Cause I don’t wanna kill you.” she said. He rolled his eyes, but before he could comment, she was running past him, taking on her next opponent. She felt like all her senses were turned to eleven, and if she didn’t have so many things she needed to focus on, it would have overwhelmed her. As it was, it seemed to help. 

God it was  _ tiring _ fighting like this, and she wasn’t even in the thick of it. She knew her strengths, knew what she needed to do. She let the more experienced soldiers go up, and she took on those that went around them, keeping them from moving into their blind sides. The stream of enemies was slow (relatively) but steady, and she was barely able to pull her weapon from one before she was having to sling it at another. A big one reared itself in front of her, too tall for her to sink the blade into it as it slashed its four arms at her. She dodged one that was coming for her head, but that allowed another to slice her in the leg. She let out a cry and sunk to a knee, her leg spasming with the tear in the muscles. The monster landed, regarding her with a toothy grin. That’s when she noticed how her gauntlets were glowing, the purple racing around them. Before it could eat her in one gulp, she slammed her wrists together, the resulting energy taking out her current enemy and several of its comrades. She put her hands on the ground, taking a breather now that she’d cleared the immediate area.

“You okay?” Bucky said, appearing beside her. She looked up and gave him a smile, trying not to gasp for breath.

“Never better.” she said. He didn’t smile back, only shook his head.

“Get up then, Barnes, we’re not done yet.” he said, putting a hand under her arm and hauling her to her feet. 

“Sir yes sir.” she said, saluting him. He rolled his eyes and grinned then, pulling his gun back up and continuing the fight. The enemies were coming faster now, overwhelming them. Bucky was turning and shooting, and she was swinging her sword as fast as she could, but they didn’t have the time for accuracy. They were just holding back the flood. Mika’s hope began to wane at this point. There was no way they could keep up with this, no way they could take them all out. They were going to overrun them. They were going to lose.

Then, a great energy dropped from the sky, its brilliant colors blinding anyone who looked to close and stunning all of the monsters. Mika and Bucky stopped and stared as the light cleared, leaving a large blonde man, a tree man, and a raccoon. 

“Is that...Thor?” Mika asked. He’d been gone for so long, she’d wondered if all that news footage was just made up, doctored by SHIELD to give people hope. But there he was, in all his glory, with his eyes glowing and a massive axe in his hand, crackling with electricity.

“Fucking finally.” Bucky said. He only had vague notions of who the man was, but he was definitely needed at this time. They watched as he ran towards the barrier, the sky going dark as he leaped, pulling lightning from every available source and sending it into the chest of any nearby enemy. That was all the encouragement they needed to keep going. 

She lost track of what was going on. All she heard was the sound of the melee around her, and all she cared about was taking down aliens and checking to make sure Bucky was still there. “ _ Guys, we got a Vision situation here. _ ” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms. She looked up, watching as two men tumbled from the lab tower. Oh no. Vision was the one they were supposed to protect, right? The one that had a stone? “ _ Somebody get to Vision! _ ” That was Steve, calling for reinforcements. Mika looked to Bucky, but he was still focused on the enemies in front of him. “ _ I got him!” “On my way!”  _ Mika couldn’t name these voices, but she recognized the sounds of them being his right after speaking. 

“Bucky!” she called, taking off at a run towards the trees where Vision had fallen. She wasn’t sure how he heard her over the sounds of the battle, but he nodded and soon fell into step beside her. It was far, really far, but if they could make it, if there was a chance that they could help, they had to try. They ran by their house, their lawn covered in alien bodies and half of the house caved in. Mika paused, looking at the wreckage, but Bucky pulled her to keep going. He didn’t have to say it out loud: if anything had happened to Luna, there was nothing that they could do for her right now. But Vision, they could help. In the distance, they heard another explosion, and slowed just enough so they could turn and see one of the obelisks erupting into flame, blue sparks telling them who got the credit for taking it down. Maybe, just maybe, they were winning.

It was quiet as they ducked into the trees, weirdly quiet. Bucky held an arm out, stopping her run. Now that they were walking, her muscles were screaming at her, her ribs feeling stiff as she attempted to regain her breath. As the adrenaline faded, the slice in her leg starting hurting worse, and she looked down to see her entire leg painted red. She couldn’t take in all the details that Bucky no doubt could, but she still could feel the tension in the air. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. 

“ _ Everyone on my position. We have incoming. _ ” Steve. They were close enough that they heard his voice in time with the comm. Bucky still held her back in the trees, trying to assess the situation before they got involved. Sam was with him, as well as Natasha, T’Challa, and Okoye. The Hulk suit clicked as he shifted his weight side to side, and the grey Iron Man was like a statue. She stayed remarkably still and quiet, her eyes flying everywhere as she tried to see what was going on. Incoming? Something else was incoming?

Turns out it was not a some _ thing _ , but a some _ one _ . A portal opened up, the air crackling with other-worldly energy as someone ripped through space and stepped into their world. A behemoth of a man, if he could be called a  _ man _ , stepped out, looking over them as if he pitied their existence. If he wasn’t so utterly terrifying, she might have laughed at his odd purple skin, or the way his head seemed weirdly small for his body. But she couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t speak. She could barely even breathe.

_ Thanos _ . She’d heard the name in passing, moreso in the past few hours than the rest of her life combined. This was the big bad guy, the one they’d been worried about. The one that wanted to wipe out entire civilizations. And now he was here. She could feel her limbs shaking, whether from the exhaustion or fear or both, she didn’t know. Wanda stood first, her hands and eyes glowing red as she eyed him. But even she looked scared. They all looked scared.

Hulk made the first move, running towards him with a battle cry. Thanos only raised his hand, and the massive red suit phased right through him, settling embedded into the stone mountainside behind him. Steve jumped in next, and Mika let out an audible cry as purple energy surrounded him and he was tossed aside like a rag doll. T’Challa leapt at him, but Thanos easily caught him by the throat, punching him so hard that he left a crater in the ground where he landed. Though Sam flew in with speed and bullets, it meant nothing, his wings and guns disappearing with a flick of the Titan’s wrist. Behind them all, Mika saw the red energy flowing from Wanda’s hand, taking the stone out of the Vision’s forehead. Grey Iron Man launched everything he had at him, but it meant nothing. Thanos crushed his suit like a can and tossed him aside. Bucky looked to her; they were the nearest, they had to try. He took off at a run, unloading his clip at Thanos, Mika right behind him. A clench of his fist, and he was knocked aside. Mika leapt over him, crossing her wrists and breaking the X, sending whatever energy she had at him. He barely flinched as it hit him, and soon she felt the bone crushing energy grab her roughly around the middle and toss her next to Bucky. 

She didn’t know what happened after that. The sounds of whatever was going on around her were muffled by the pain coursing through her entire body. She knew her face was in the dirt, but she didn’t care. It hurt to breathe too deeply anyway. Part of her mind told her to get up, to keep trying, to not stop. But she was tired, and broken, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on. She had no regrets of staying out with Bucky; if she was going to die, she was going to die with him. She could feel him next to her, recovering faster than she was. Suddenly she was on her back, looking up at the sky. Yet somehow, it still wasn’t any easier to breathe. 

“Meeks.” his voice sounded far away. “Mika!” That one sounded closer.

“I’m okay.” she wheezed. Is this what broken ribs felt like? It had to be. He put his hand on her head, smoothing her hair away. Her skin felt slick - was it sweat? Or blood?

“You’ll be okay.” he agreed. His face was coming into focus now. He looked tired too. She reached up for his hand, letting him pull her into a seated position. As soon as she was up, a wave of energy crashed around them, sending them both back to the ground. It was silent again after this, and for a moment she couldn’t even hear the sound of her own breathing. She rolled over, pushing up to her hands and knees. Whatever that energy was, hopefully that meant this was over.

Bucky sat up next to her, tugging her to her feet. As soon as she was upright, she double over, clutching her abdomen. She couldn’t stop the cry of pain, her knuckles growing white as she gripped the rough fabric of his uniform.

“What is it? Where are you hurt?” he asked. He sounded frantic, moreso than she’d ever heard before. He tugged her hand aside, but there was no visible injury. The pain was deep, incredibly deep.

“I think...I might be…” she gasped the words out. Should she admit this to him? Tell him? Would it be worse for him to know? He looked at her, his blue eyes shining with concern. He trusted her implicitly. She had to tell the truth. “...miscarrying.”

“What?” his voice was soft as the implications of the one word settled in his brain. Another stab of pain went through her. No, whatever this pain was, it was outside her uterus. It was something worse, something at the very core of her being. She felt like bit by bit, cell by cell, her body was breaking apart. 

“Wait, no…” her voice trailed off, as if those two words would help any of the damage the other admission gave. The world was quiet. Eerily quiet. “I think...we lost.” she said finally. She looked over to Steve, but she couldn’t see Thanos anymore. He was gone. Where was he? No body...meant no victory. “He’s gone, Bucky. I think he…”

The pain eased in intensity, but started working its way through her whole body. She looked down, feeling like her legs were cracking, breaking. Turns out, that’s exactly what was happening. Her eyes turned back to Bucky, and she could feel the fear on her face. Pieces of him were starting to flake away too, dancing away in the wind.

“Bucky?” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. He put his arms around her, holding her up and holding her close, tucking her face into his neck so that she didn’t have to see what was going on.

“It’s going to be okay, Little Bird.” he said, his own throat thick. After all this, after all the aliens that almost got her, after all the shit they’d been through, none of it mattered. It was always going to go down like this. 

“I’m scared, I’m really scared.” she said, sobbing into his hair. What happened, after death? It was a question she’d had often, but tried to avoid. He clutched her tighter, his embrace hurting her cracked ribs. But she didn’t care. Pain meant she was still alive, right?

“I know. I’m here. I’m right here with you.” he replied softly. Her body shook with her tears, and he tried to soothe her as best he could.

“It hurts.” she admitted, her voice high. He squeezed his eyes shut, his own tears mingling with the sweat and blood in her hair. He knew. He was feeling it too.

“It’s going to be okay. No matter where we go, I’ll find you.” he said. He felt as her legs completely disintegrated, as he held what was left of her body. “I love you, I’ll find you-”

And then, she was gone. 

He looked down at his arms, the last dust of her blowing away and mixing with the ashes coming off of him. He would join her soon. She was right, Thanos had won. And they were among the chosen to die. He looked for Steve, the fearless leader he’d followed through multiple lives. He looked tired, beaten, worn. He was never a good loser. But he had been a great leader, and a great friend.

“Steve?” he said, just loud enough to get his attention. He barely made eye contact before the pain spread, his arms going before his legs, his legs before his torso, his torso before the rest of him.

Dust.

Darkness.

Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh snap!!!!! thank you so much to everyone who's commented, i'm sorry i haven't responded in the past couple weeks but know that i cry over every single one of them!
> 
> i probably won't be able to update next week because i'm traveling, but i do want y'all to know that we aren't skipping straight to endgame. i've had something planned since infinity war, and i'm excited to delve into that! 
> 
> hope y'all liked this chapter!


	63. Everything Was Red

There was nothing. No temperature, no sounds, no movement. He couldn’t feel anything, see anything, smell anything. The only reason he figured he was still alive was that he was still breathing. 

His mind was a blank. Who was he? Where was he? Breathe in, breathe out. Was he dead? Alive? Somewhere in between? Breathe in, breathe out. He tried to move his hands; one of them was silent and strong, and the other clicked softly as he clenched the fist. That’s right, one of his arms was metal. He’d lost it, falling from a train. 

_ Steve! _

_ Bucky! _

Bucky opened his eyes, the bits and pieces of his memories falling into place. He looked around to find himself alone and back in his old apartment; not the one in Romania, no. The one in Brooklyn, in 1943. Had the stones transported him back in time? It didn’t seem like the worst explanation. He knew he wasn’t in Hell, because he’d lived there already for seventy years and it was nothing like this. But he knew it wasn’t Heaven either, because his arm was still metal and his girl wasn’t by his side. 

Mika. He had to find her, had to see if she was okay. What had she said right before the dusting?  _ I think I’m...miscarrying _ . The words hit him for a second time like a ton of bricks, burying him until he couldn’t breathe or move. His wife had been pregnant, and he hadn’t stopped her from risking her life fighting. Hell, he hadn’t even  _ noticed _ . He was knowledgeable enough in biology to keep up, and yet he hadn’t even suspected. He’d just figured she was stressed, or her cycle was changing from spending time with other women. He was so insistent in his own sterility that it hadn’t even been a thought in his mind.

He needed to get to her immediately. He sat up, waiting for the headrush that usually accompanied the change in position, but it never came. The apartment was exactly how he remembered it, including the pictures on the wall and the record player on the end table. There was even a shirt still laid across the back of a chair, ironed and ready to wear out on a date he didn’t make it to after getting drafted. He slowly climbed to his feet, listening for  _ anything _ , but he didn’t hear the uneven limp of Mr. Abernathy the apartment above him, or the crying of Matilda, the baby next door. It was all silent. He took a deep breath, trying to still his growing panic. He went to the window and laid against the wall next to it, looking through the little sliver between the glass and curtains to the street below, eyeing how the entire world seemed to be covered in a vague red glow. There were people down there, looking as lost and confused as he felt. The building across was different - he’d expected to see the laundromat, but now there was a coffee shop. He looked away, and when he glanced back again, the laundromat appeared for a brief moment before melting back into the coffee shop. 

He opened the window, silently stepping out onto the fire escape and taking the steps up to the roof. Everyone was going down, looking for camaraderie, trying to figure out what was going on. He didn’t care about them, he was only looking for one person. 

The view from the roof was much better, the city sprawling out in front of him. He stopped trying to remember  _ his _ Brooklyn, as every time he did, the landscape shifted. He could hear the murmur of people down below as they all looked for anyone they knew, or cried about those that had been left behind. He had no idea who was or wasn’t stuck in this weird red purgatory, except for Mika. She was the only one he cared about, but if he was going to find her, then he was going to have to turn off the impulsive, emotional side of himself that had developed over the past couple years. He had to turn off his heart, and listen to his senses, his brain. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, just like Mika taught him a lifetime ago in that little gym room. He pushed the memory out of his mind, he could revisit it later. Right now he needed to focus.

He began his assessment, his eyes taking inventory of the people down on the street, and the way they visualized this Red New York. The buildings more or less stabilized as people’s memories consolidated on a state of wear and tear on them. He could hear fragments of the conversations below if he listened hard enough, and they all seemed to be similar:  _ woke up in my childhood bedroom - haven’t been here in years - can’t find my sister/husband/child _ . So the stone had sent them back home, to the first home they knew. So that meant Mika wasn’t here, but back in Romania. How would travel in this world work? Would he be able to travel, if he didn’t know the roads? Would they disappear if he thought too much about it, or would the collective memories of everyone who knew them be enough to hold them? He looked up at the sky, trying to get a sense of time, but there was no sun, just a blanket of red. 

He stiffened as he heard footsteps on the rooftop behind him. They were quiet, too quiet. They were the careful, hesitant steps of an assassin, reading his target and preparing for every possible outcome. They moved slightly to the right, away from the metal arm. That was good, smart. So, this assassin knew him. He turned just slightly, readying himself. There was no sound of a gun, or a knife. Was he - or likely, she, based on the weight in the steps - planning to try and take him out by hand? 

He waited until the steps got closer, just the right distance, before springing into action. He turned and lunged, reaching for the neck of whoever was sneaking up on him. But his fingers only met air as the assassin ducked under his grasp, the person moving in a blur to put three feet of distance between them. Huh, weird. Normally an assassin would go for his weak spots.

“Sorry, Mr. Winter Soldier sir! I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I just wasn’t sure it was you, cause last time your hair was shorter and-and-and your arm, it was different, right? I remember wondering if it was made of titanium or stainless steel because it was so silver and now it’s dark-” It wasn’t an assassin at all. It was a kid in a metal suit with a giant spider on the chest.

“Who the fuck are you?” Bucky interrupted him before he could really get going. He recognized the spider suit, though it was different from the one he was wearing back in the airport in Germany. He’d never seen the kid under the mask, but the voice was the exact same.

“Oh, uh,” the kid looked really awkward for a second, gesturing to himself before standing up a little taller and taking a minute to decide where to put his hands before putting them on his hips in an amusing attempt at a power pose. “I’m Spiderman.”

“Yea, I got that. You got a real person name?” he asked dryly. This kid was annoying back in Germany, and he was annoying now. 

“Yea! Uh, yes, sir. Mr. Winter Soldier sir.” he said, trying to be professional or grown up or a mix of the two. 

“You can just call me Bucky, kid.” he said. This kid was throwing a severe wrench in his plan right now.

“Peter. Uh, Peter Parker.” the kid said. He seemed surprised, though Bucky didn’t see what was so shocking about his name. Didn’t they make the kids learn about him and Steve and the Howling Commandos in school nowadays? But then again, when did kids ever pay attention to history lessons? “Where did you get Bucky from?”

“Nickname from my middle name. James Buchanan Barnes.” he replied, though the name still felt foreign in his mouth. The kid asked a lot of questions, and he was quickly getting over it.

“Whoa. You have a real name too.” he said. Bucky rolled his eyes and turned away from him, striding towards the fire escape again.

“Nice to meet you, Peter. Good luck.” he deadpanned. Before he knew it, Peter was on the edge of the building, looking even more nervous than he did before. Bucky tried not to be startled, but somehow the kid seemed to sense it anyways.

“Sorry, um,” he paused, searching for his words. “Do you, like, have any idea what’s going on here?” 

“We lost, kid. That’s what happened.” he said. He was tired, not in body (though how that was possible after the long, bloody battle he didn’t know) but in mind. And he had a lot of work to do. He tried to go down the fire escape again, but Peter cut him off. Again.

“Where are we, Mr. Barnes?” he asked, and this time, Bucky didn’t have an answer for him. He looked up at the red sky, which remained unchanged, though at least an hour had passed since he’d awoken. He let out a long sigh. 

“I don’t know.” he admitted. “Best guess is we’re stuck in the stone.” 

“Okay, well,” his eyes flitted to Bucky, then away, and Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking at, though it seemed like he was looking at a very complicated equation on a chalkboard. Then suddenly, he looked at him. “We have to find the wizard. Uh, I mean, Dr. Strange.”

“I’m not finding a wizard, kid. I’ve seen that movie, it’s just a normal guy behind the curtain.” Bucky said, finally pushing past him and going down a floor. But Peter was stubborn, and swung down on some kind of rope, landing in front of him.

“No, I mean, that’s just what Mr. Stark called him when we were on the space ship. He has powers, like - I mean, I don’t think they’re magic, but they’re magicish. He said there was one chance for us to win this thing and-”

“And we didn’t win.” Bucky said. “I don’t have time to find a wizard. I need to find my wife.” He didn’t give Peter time to respond, instead launching himself off the fire escape, landing on the street below. The people around him startled, some of them screaming, all of them stumbling away from him. Undeterred, Peter swung down next to him, jogging to catch up to him.

“Wait a minute, you have a  _ wife _ ?”

***

Mika had seen a lot of weird things over the past couple years, but this took the cake.

She laid on the floor for a long time after waking up, trying to convince herself to get up. Images of her life flashed across her eyes (which were closed), of her time with family, with Bucky. She remembered the battle, the feeling as her body disintegrated. And finally, after she came to terms with the fact that she was most likely dead, she opened her eyes. 

She was surprised to find herself in her mother’s house. Not the small cottage that she’d taken Bucky to for Christmas, but their childhood home. It still had all her posters on the walls, all the pictures from when they were kids. The bed was unmade, and there was an extra pile of blankets on a bean bag. She sat up, folding her legs underneath her and trying to take inventory of her body. Her hands immediately went to her abdomen and she held it lightly, as if she could feel the five week embryo. But it wouldn’t be there if she was dead, right? What were the rules of pregnancy and supernatural stone snaps?

“Mum?” she called out, not knowing if she wanted her to respond or not. She was met with nothing. “Nicoletta?” she called out again, but still only found silence. So, either they’d been spared, or she wasn’t alive. “...Raisa? Dad?”

No answer there either. Okay, so she wasn’t dead. Maybe. Probably. She slowly climbed to her feet, expecting to feel some sort of soreness or lightheadedness after fighting aliens for so long but finding that she felt surprisingly fine. She looked down at herself, taking in the armor that Shuri had made her. Perhaps she should change? She tapped the bracelet, and was somewhat surprised when the nanites returned to their home. She suddenly felt very exposed, naked in her childhood bedroom, and breathed a sigh of relief to open her drawers and find her clothes the way she’d left them when she was going to university. She pulled on some jeans and a bra, but didn’t care for any of the tight t-shirts that were in her drawers. She paused, considering her options before going down the hallway to her parents’ bedroom. She opened the closet to find her dad’s clothes, still hanging there, just as they were for years after his death. She pulled out his favorite flannel shirt, holding it to her face and smelling it. Somehow, it still smelled like him, though she had the distinct impression that it was all just a fancy facade. Now dressed, she went to explore. 

The house was exactly the way she remembered it, which was eerie and uncomfortable. Though she was completely alone, she felt the ghosts of her family all around her. There was the dent in the wall, where Raisa had fallen down the stairs when Mika was chasing after her for a stolen shirt. There were the faded remnants of crayon on the wall, not completely scrubbed off after Nicoletta had decided to make it her first canvas. There was even an empty coffee mug on the counter as if she’d finished it and didn’t quite make it to the sink.

If she was here, then where did that mean Bucky was? All the way back in New York? But would the stone send him there, when his first home after being held by Hydra was in Romania? She had to see, had to find out. She had to get back to their apartments in Bucharest. It was about one hundred and twenty kilometers from Piteşti to Bucharest. If she was able to walk about five kilometers an hour for eight hours of the day, then it would take her three days to get home. Maybe two and a half, if she could walk a little extra longer. She checked the cupboards, but there was no food there, and the sink didn’t run whenever she turned the faucet. She wasn’t hungry at the moment, but she wasn’t sure if that would change with time. Speaking of, what time was it?

The clock on the mantle wasn’t moving, and the digital ones just blinked for noon, as if the power had been lost. She looked around, but couldn’t find anything that she could really take with her. Except, of course, the baseball bat leaning next to the front door. That may come in handy. She took a deep breath, suddenly scared of what she was going to find when she walked outside. But she had to be brave, had to leave so that she could find Bucky. She took another breath, and before she could think too hard about it, opened the door and left the house.

She was shocked by how incredibly  _ red _ everything was. There was nothing in the sky - no sun, no moon, no stars or clouds. It was just red. There were other people out on the streets, looking up at the same red sky and trying to figure out what was going on. She suddenly realized that for once, she was the most knowledgeable one in the room. None of these people knew about the infinity stones, or Thanos, or the snap. And even if her information was the bare minimum, she at least had an inkling. She wondered if she should stop and talk to them, all these people from her neighborhood that she hadn’t spoken to in years, to try and tell them what was going on. But there were so many people, and they looked so lost and confused, and she was suddenly so overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation that she could do nothing but put her head down and start walking. 

She was somewhat surprised that her feet made noise on the concrete, but the steady sound of her steps helped to ground her, the rhythm and the thought of Bucky giving her enough motivation to keep going. She suddenly felt very small, and very alone, stuck in this strange world where everything was a mystery. She didn’t realize until now how used she’d gotten to Bucky being there all the time, his strong, quiet presence a cocoon of protection around her. But now she was on her own, like she was before she met him. She gripped the bat a little tighter, feeling her muscles move and remembering all the things he’d taught her. Maybe he wasn’t here physically, but he was still protecting her, because she knew now that she could handle herself if she had to. 

Suddenly, the percussion of her footsteps was joined by others. They were heavier, and slower, and a respectful distance away. Before she met Bucky, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed. But now, his vague paranoia had rubbed off on her, and she couldn’t help but keep an ear turned to them. Maybe these someone elses had the same idea she did, just a group of people trying to make their way back home, back to somebody. Then she heard the whispers, the murmurs, and a low, low laugh, and she realized that she was probably going to have to use her newfound skill set sooner than she thought. 

She stopped suddenly, but the footsteps behind her did not, and soon she was passed by two men she didn’t know. For just a moment, she thought that she was just being silly, that they were just going to keep walking and not pay her any mind. But they slowed, and turned, and stopped, giving her smiles that instantly made her skin crawl.

“Hey there. Are you lost?” the first man asked. His facial hair was thick and untamed, giving him a slightly disheveled look that made him slightly more menacing. His friend was clean shaven, but it did nothing to help the predatory smile he gave her. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” she said curtly, choking up on the bat a bit. Their eyes glanced down at it before returning to her, and she wondered if they could sense the threat from her. Based on their postures, they didn’t. 

“It’s not safe, being in this new world alone.” the second man said. 

“I’m not alone.” she said quickly, even though it was fairly obvious that she was. “I’m going to meet my husband right now.” she added, as if that would deter them. The bearded man’s grin widened.

“What if he’s not here?” he asked. 

“I know he is.” she replied. “But thank you, so much, for your concern.” She walked around them, determined not to touch them. But as she strode by, one of them (she didn’t care which one) grabbed her wrist. She easily turned and pulled, strong enough to escape his grasp, and pushed his chest with the end of the bat.

“Whoa there.” he said, holding up his hands. It was the clean shaven one. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“I said I was fine.” she retorted, still keeping the bat up between them. Could they tell she was shaking? She tried to seem tougher than she once, for once glad for the height her father’s genes had given her. They eyed her, sizing her up, and she could see how they were calculating exactly how much trouble she would be, and how much she was worth. And after the longest minute of her life (red or otherwise), their smiles dropped, and they turned away without another word, going back towards the town. Her breath left her in a rush, her head spinning as she came down from the adrenaline high. She could do this. She could handle this. She wondered if she should do something, anything, to stop them. But then she didn’t know what she could do, and what would happen if she hurt someone in this world. Reluctantly, she turned to continue her trek, and almost ran face first into the very  _ last _ person she wanted to see.

“Hey there, love. Miss me?” Dominic asked, his trademark smirk plastered across his face.

_ Fuck. _

***

The silence was deafening around Steve. 

He’d gone back to the palace, figured out the missing, and the dead. Rhodey had tried to contact Fury with no response, and had left to see what was going on back in New York. Steve elected to follow up with them later, saying he had some business to attend to first. He went back to Mika and Bucky’s house, the windows dark and half of it caved in. He stepped into the wreckage, wondering how things could have gone so wrong that they ended up like this. 

Anger suddenly bubbled up in him, and he picked up the nearest thing and threw it across the room, not feeling any better when it shattered into the wall. Something skittered across the back hallway, and he was immediately on alert, hoping that there was one last alien for him to slam his fist into. He quietly stepped into the back bedroom, ignoring the signs everywhere that said Mika and Bucky lived there. He checked the closet and the bathroom and found them empty; there was no way out except for the way he came in. The last spot was under the bed.

Steve took one step towards it, then another, angling his body to prepare for attack. Then, with one hand, he swiftly flipped the bed against the opposite wall, the mattress breaking the windows as it slammed into it. There wasn’t an alien hiding under the bed, but instead a scared Luna, who whimpered and froze in her spot, her fear paralyzing her. Steve stopped, relaxing his hands and dropping to one knee.

“Hey there, sweet girl.” he said as softly as he could, though his voice still felt too loud in the silence. She looked at him hesitantly before her tail started wagging, and she slowly uncurled and crawled over to him. He put his hand on her head and let her tuck herself next to him, her body shaking as she took in his friendly presence. “I know, that was scary. But we’re going to figure it out, okay? I got you.” 

The dog seemed to understand him, getting as close as she could to him, as if she knew that Mika and Bucky were gone and that he was all she had left. He stayed there, petting her, until both of them were calmed down and ready to get up and continue on to their next step. She followed him all the way back to the palace, back to the hangar where a plane waited for him. His hands hovered over the coordinates, eventually selecting the ones for a little cottage outside Berlin instead of the Avengers complex in New York. 

He was glad for Luna’s company as they flew to Germany, and also as he walked up the driveway to Nicoletta’s home. The light was on inside and he saw her shadow pass across the windows. It was too late for her to be up, but he wasn’t surprised. He realized too late that he should have called, should have given her warning, but there was no way he could have withheld the news that he needed to deliver in person. He hesitated, garnering his courage before softly knocking on the door. He heard her footsteps as she ran to it, throwing it open with a look of hope on her face. He saw her eyes flitting, looking for anyone to be with him. Luna happily greeter her, and she absently reached a hand out to her, though her eyes didn’t leave Steve’s. 

“Mika?” she asked quietly. He opened his mouth, but his voice caught in his throat. Instead, all he could do was shake his head. Tears filled her eyes, and her lower lip trembled as she asked, “Bucky?” His throat ached as he shook his head again. “Sam?” Another shake. She broke then, her hand going over her mouth as the tears fell. He moved to her, holding her small, shaking body against his as she cried. He knew he was dirty, and bloody, and must smell horrendous, but Nicoletta clutched his uniform like he was a life raft, and he held her to his chest as if he might crumble without her. And while he couldn’t cry like she was, a few tears did trail down his cheeks and into her hair. They stood there on the porch, holding each other and letting out the feelings they couldn’t vocalize, until her sobs slowed and his bones ached and they settled into the sadness that hovered like a fog around them both. 

He limped into her house like a zombie and she followed, and they silently agreed that tomorrow they would try and do something about this. But tonight, they were just going to check out, and miss the people that they loved. 


	64. Running in Place

Every second Bucky spent with Peter Parker made him question if he actually wanted kids.

The kid was nice and all, but goddamn he could never  _ shut up _ . They made their way through New York, Peter trying his best to convince Bucky to find Dr. Strange and Bucky insisting that no, he didn’t care about this doctor or wizard or whatever he was, he only cared about finding his wife. And then, just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, they heard a swooshing sound from overhead, and they turned just in time to see one Sam Wilson, wings out as he readied for a perfect landing in front of them. 

“There you are.” he said with a grin. And while Bucky was glad to see a friendly face, especially one of another adult, he made a play of rolling his eyes.

“Of fucking course you’re here. Can’t ever escape you, huh?” he asked dryly. Peter stood up tall, once again putting on his false bravado. This time, Bucky didn’t have to pretend to roll his eyes.

“Till death do us part, baby.” Sam replied, retracting his wings and pulling his goggles off. He turned to Peter, silently and obviously sizing him up before saying, “Pipsqueak. Nice to see you again.”

“Um, uh, likewise, Mr. Falcon, sir.” Peter replied, trying to make his voice just a touch deeper than it actually was. Sam perked an eyebrow, looking back to Bucky.

“He always this weird?” he asked, and Bucky shrugged in response.

“As far as I can tell.” he replied. “You know of anyone else who’s here?” 

Sam shook his head. “Only reason I could find you was cause that arm was shiny. Checked the tower, no sign of Tony-”

“Mr. Stark’s not here.” Peter cut in. It was the most sure he’d sounded the entire time. “He was still on Titan. He didn’t dust away.”

“But Mika did.” Bucky said. He couldn’t care less about Tony Stark or wherever Titan was. That was enough to shift Sam’s attention back to him. 

“What?” he asked. Ah, so he hadn’t known that. 

“His wife!” Peter said, proud of this information that he could impart. “I keep trying to tell him that if we find Dr. Strange then maybe we can find her next-”

“I know she’s his wife kid. Shut up for a second.” Sam cut him off, holding up a hand for good measure. “Meeks is here too?”

“Based on preliminary evidence, she’ll be back in Romania. Which is where I’m going first.” he said resolutely. “Then we can work on finding a way out of here.” 

“But she’s all the way over there, and Dr. Strange is somewhere around here. So instead of wasting time going all the way to Romania-” Peter had good intentions, Bucky was sure, but the kid needed to learn to think before he spoke.

“Hey!” he and Sam said at the same time, effectively stopping whatever runaway train of thought was going through his head.

“You saying my wife is a waste of time, kid?” Bucky said darkly. He wasn’t as pissed as he made himself sound, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t, in fact, pissed. But the look of utter fear that only a teenager can possess after saying the wrong thing helped soothe the wound a little bit.

“No no no! Absolutely not!” he said, holding his hands up. He looked to Sam for help, but he only lifted an eyebrow and gave him a look that said  _ you’re on your own _ . “I’m just thinking, we can find Dr. Strange quicker, so then he can get us out of here and you-you can get back to her quicker then! Like, instead of going there and-and back, you can just - you know - make one trip?”

“Is that a question, or an answer?” Bucky asked, his voice still monotone. The kid had a point, he’d admit that. But he found he didn’t care. He had no interest in fighting his way through this world on a maybe. If this doctor/wizard guy couldn’t fix this, then it would just be wasting more time before he found Mika.

“Um, both.” Peter said, the most confident that Bucky had heard him. Which was, admittedly, still not very confident. He was trying his best. 

“I think I know who he’s talking about.” Sam said, and Bucky did not care for the look on his face at all. “Haven’t met him, but I think the kid may not have the worst idea.”

“Exactly! I-” Peter tried to cut in, but Bucky turned Sam so both of them were facing away from him.

“Shut up.” he said over his shoulder, leaning in closer to Sam and keeping his voice quiet. “There’s a chance she’s...look I don’t have time for this, Sam. I’ve got to find her.”

“I get it, I do. But if this guy has the powers I’ve heard he has, then he can either get us out of here, or get you to Romania faster.” Sam murmured back. 

“Et tu, Brute?” Bucky deadpanned. He was getting really tired of everyone trying to change his priorities.

“Hey man, if you wanna go on, go on. I’m not gonna stop you. I’m just saying there might be a more efficient way for you to achieve your goal.” Sam offered. Bucky eyed him for a long moment before shaking his head.

“You and Spiderkid can go after the wizard. I’ve gotta find Mika.” he said, stepping away. Peter looked disappointed, and while Sam looked like he wanted to disagree, he pressed his lips together and nodded. Bucky looked to Peter. “Sorry, Pete. Good luck with everything.” he said. He turned and walked away, and this time Peter didn’t follow. 

However, his dramatic exit was interrupted by a blaze going straight up into the sky, somewhere in the direction of Manhattan. The red fabric of the sky rippled like a banner as the blaze hit it, electric orange lightning spiderwebbing across the sky. Buildings around them started flickering, the way they did when people couldn’t decide on their state of decay. Bucky’s purposeful walk slowed to a stop, and he watched as the pillar of whatever that was flickered and died again, the atmosphere shifting and swirling until it was back to its single shade of red. He looked back to Sam and Peter, who were staring in that same direction as well. Both of them had looks of worry on their faces.

“Any idea what that was?” he asked Peter. The kid’s eyes were wide, and his jaw slack. For once he was speechless, and simply shook his head. He sighed. God  _ dammit _ . “Fine. Let’s go check it out.”

He didn’t wait for the other two, taking off towards the pillar. Though the bright light was gone, there was smoke rising from where Bucky assumed its base sat. If something was threatening this world, trying to break it, he needed to stop it. Right now, he was still somewhat alive, and so was Mika. And he wanted to keep it that way. 

Peter came swinging over his head, Sam flying soon after him, both of them going in the direction of the smoke. He cursed to himself, picking up the pace and finding that it was easier to run here than it was on his first earth. Time to test the limits then.

He broke into a full on sprint, navigating the streets and the people and following both the smoke and Sam and Peter ahead of him. He turned one last corner in time to see a group of - well he wouldn’t call them  _ people _ exactly - humanoid beings, joined in a circle and connected by holding hands. Hooded cloaks hid their faces, but he could see a bluish tint to the skin of their pale hands, covered with thin, black tattoos. They were chanting something in a language that Bucky had never heard, the concrete in front of them rolling and boiling, the same reddish energy just beneath the surface. He slowed to a walk, trying to assess the situation. Were they trying to break them out of the stone? Or destroy this world? 

Just when he concluded that this was definitely an “attack first, ask questions later” situation, Peter swung in, acrobatically flipping and slinging web to tie up the people in the robes. They fell to the ground with cries of outrage, the pavement solidifying in front of them again as the chanting stopped. Bucky let out a sigh of relief as Peter flipped next to him, Sam coming down moments later.

“Wow,” Peter said, and Bucky could tell even through the mask that the kid was proud of himself. God, did this kid’s energy and optimism know no bounds? “I’ve never gotten to take out occultists before.”

...

“So where are we headed, love?” Dominic asked, leisurely keeping up with Mika despite her best efforts to quicken her pace. She felt like her face was set in a permanent scowl, but he didn’t seem to care.

“ _ We _ are not going anywhere.  _ I  _ am going back home.” she said. She didn’t look at him, not wanting to see his stupid smirking face. She had a mission, and she was going to take care of it herself, because she could now. Well, technically she always could, she thought. But now she had the skills and the confidence to carry it out. Dominic tried to grab her hand, but she pulled roughly from his grasp, sparing him a glare before she kept walking. 

“Don’t be like that. Look, I know where we ended things last time were a little sour, but now-” he tried to plead his case, but Mika wasn’t hearing it.

“There is no  _ now _ . There is no  _ we _ . I’m going home, and you’re leaving me alone.” she said shortly. And yet, he was persistent, running in front of her and putting his hands on her shoulders so that she would stop and finally look at him, even if it was just to fix an annoyed look on her face.

“Don’t you see, love? This is just destiny giving us another chance. I  _ told _ you we were meant to be.” he said, and she thought he really believed he was telling the truth. Too bad it wasn’t the truth at all.

“I’m married now, Dominic, and I need to go find my husband.” she said, sidestepping around him and continuing on her path. But if one thing could be said about Dominic, he never gave up, even when he should.

“But it’s a new world now, Mika. And we can make it whatever we want it to be.” he tried, and this time she didn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “What? You don’t even know if he’s here! He could be-”

“He’s here.” she interrupted. She did not want to have this conversation. She wanted to keep walking. 

“And how could you possibly know that?” he asked. She scoffed, shaking her head at his persistence.

“Because I was with him when it ended.” she retorted. He didn’t deserve all these answers, and she didn’t know why she kept giving them to him. Perhaps it was to remind herself why she needed to stay focused (as if she needed help there), or perhaps it was because even after years, she was still a little salty about how Dominic treated her, and wanted to rub it in his face that not only had she moved on, but she was actually happy now.

“Come on, Mika. Whoever it is, he doesn’t have the history we do. He doesn’t know you like I do.” he said, and she actually had to turn her face heavenward for a second before stopping and settling him with a harsh gaze.

“You’re right, we have a lot of history.” she relented, and his face brightened at her admission. She quickly cut off that thought for him. “And you’re right, he doesn’t know me like you do. Because you have a picture of me in your head from a decade ago. You only know me as the university girl, broken up over her sister’s death and making bad decisions. And he knows me as I actually am, the  _ real _ me.” 

Dominic was dumbfounded. Besides their last interaction, she’d never spoken to him like this. But she wanted - no,  _ needed _ \- him to know that she was not going to revert back to the girl she used to be every time he came around. She was stronger than that now. He licked his lips, carefully choosing his words before asking evenly, “And who is this guy, hm? Do I know him?”

Mika contemplated keeping that information to herself, knowing he would blow up at the answer. But a part of her - the petty part - wanted him to know exactly how wrong he was about people. “Bucky. My old neighbor.” she said, and this time his jaw actually dropped at her words. “Of course, we’re not neighbors anymore. It’s easier to just live in one house.”

“Bullshit.” Dominic said, his eyes growing harsh. “There’s no way you’d marry that creepy weirdo.”

Mika flashed the diamond on her hand. “Got his mother’s ring to prove it.” she said cheekily. This was a bad idea, she knew. But she’d just been snapped out of her own world and separated from the man she loved most, and she was tired and angry and, if she was honest, wanted to hurt Dominic at least a fraction of what he’d hurt her in the past. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She started walking again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Dominic said, catching up to her once again. What was it going to take for him to leave her alone? “Mika, if he did something to you, somehow forced you into this-”

“He didn’t.” she said. “He just does this crazy thing where he actually loves me for who I am, and supports me.”

“And I never did that?” he asked, incredulous at the notion. Mika couldn’t stop herself from snorting, still not bothering to look at him.

“Nope.” she replied, her strides steady and even as she continued on her way. “Don’t worry, Dominic, I’m sure you can find someone who will listen to your sob story in this ‘new world’ or whatever. So why don’t you just go on?”

“Because-” he actually stopped himself this time, and the self interruption was rare enough that it actually made Mika turn to see what he was going to say. He was silent for a long time, clenching his jaw as he seemed to decide whether or not he wanted to continue his statement. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I hurt you, I didn’t mean to-”

“Not a real apology, but go on.” she said, wanting to get past whatever excuse he was going to give and instead hear his reasoning. That way she could shut it down and move on. He let out an annoyed sigh, but let her interruption go. It was probably the most mature thing she’d ever seen from him.

“This world is fucked up. And I don’t want to go it alone. Please, Mika. I know you can handle yourself or whatever, just please don’t leave me behind.” he said. His face actually looked genuine for once, though she knew that he could fake it really well if he wanted to. She had no romantic feelings left for him whatsoever, but she understood the fear he was verbalizing. The only thing that was allowing her to overcome it was the thought of getting back to Bucky. What did Dominic have to hold on to?

“Fine.” she relented, somehow knowing in her heart that she was going to come to regret this decision. His face brightened and he opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. “But, no more lame flirtations, no more comments on my marriage or my husband - actually, if we could keep all talking to a minimum, that would be preferable.”

“Scouts honor, love.” he said, holding up three fingers. She decided not to comment how he’d never been a scout.

“And no more calling me love.” she added. Without waiting for a response, she turned and kept walking. There was no way for them to tell the time, but she knew she needed to get a move on. Between the interaction with those two men and Dominic’s constant stream of conversation, she knew she was behind where she wanted to be. She could hear Dominic’s footsteps as he caught up to her, but he kept his word, staying silent as they continued walking east. 

Her stamina was definitely different in this world compared to their normal earth, her legs seeming to fatigue at half the normal rate they normally did. She also noticed that she never got hungry, or thirsty. She was able to keep going without hinderance, except for the vague notion that next to her Dominic was getting bored and restless. But he kept silent, following her dutifully as they made their way towards Bucharest. 

The only way she knew the day was ending was because the red of the sky started to darken, eventually turning scarlet, and then maroon. It would be dark soon, and she had no idea how complete the night would be here. Considering there wasn’t a sun, she assumed there wouldn’t be stars to light their path. And with the chance of changing landscape, wandering at night would be a horrible idea. As much as she didn’t want to, they had to stop for the night. As the maroon sky started to deepen further, she stopped at an apartment building, happy to find the front door unlocked and the building blissfully quiet. She walked up the stairs, going up to the top floor despite vague annoyed sounds coming from her companion. 

She heard footsteps in the first two apartments they passed, sounds of voices that said people were there. But the third one was completely silent, and a feeling told her it was empty. This door was also unlocked, and they were able to get in and lock it without anyone being any the wiser.

“Can I talk now?” Dominic asked. After so many hours of wonderful silence, his voice was grating.

“No.” Mika said. She went into each room of the small apartment, checking to make sure it actually was as unoccupied as it seemed. When she was finished, she found Dominic still standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed over his chest. 

“So we’re just going to walk in silence all the way to Bucharest?” he asked, as if he were surprised at how stubborn she was being. In his defense, she had never really put her foot down with him before.

“That’s the plan. You can always go on your own if you don’t agree.” she responded, sitting down on the simple couch and pulling her shoes off. “Do you want the couch or the bed?” 

He furrowed his brows, going to look in the bedroom. “Mika, there’s a queen size bed. We can easily share it.” he said, and she didn’t know if he meant to change the intonation of his voice or if it just happened by accident. Didn’t matter, though. Her answer was the same either way.

“Couch or bed?” she asked again, looking up at him with all the patience of a burnt out teacher who didn’t care for her job. She could actually hear him grind his teeth as he bit back whatever response he wanted to give. 

“Sleep well on the couch.” he said sharply, going into the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him. She let out a long breath, feeling like she could relax for the first time since waking up that morning. She blew out another deep breath for good measure, laying down on the couch and getting comfortable as the sky outside darkened to a plum. She put a hand over her abdomen, wondering for the hundredth time whether or not there was still a little fetus in there, seeing if she could feel any sort of difference. Of course, she couldn’t, but she still kept a protective hand there as she drifted off to sleep, just in case.

…

Steve allowed himself an extra night in Nicoletta’s bed. He’d meant to leave the next morning after going to Germany, knowing that he needed to get to New York, needed to meet up with Natasha and see if they found anything from Fury. But Nicoletta had been completely broken at his news, and so he’d stayed, holding her as she cried and bringing her water or food or alcohol or whatever she needed. They’d done things that he thought they would regret, but the next morning she’d simply rolled into his arms, clutching him tightly as if she were afraid that he too would be dusted at any moment. 

The second morning, he heard his phone vibrating in his uniform pants pocket on the floor. He was as quiet as he could be, pulling it out and stepping into the living room. It would be too loud to try and close the squeaky door, so he answered and waited until he was sitting on the day bed before putting it to his ear.

“What’s up, Nat?” he asked quietly. Even though it was barely a low murmur, it still felt too loud in the early morning hours.

“Fury called someone via beeper.” she said immediately. If she noticed how quiet he was, or how he’d disappeared for twenty-four hours, she didn’t bring it up. In her defense, there were much more important things going on right now. 

“What’s a beeper?” he asked, because for some reason that seemed to be the better question. He interrupted before she could give him a dry answer. “Nevermind. Who did he call?”

“We don’t know. Rhodey’s running through any database he can find, but no answers yet. Look we need...can you come to New York? Soon?” she asked. It was kind of her, giving him the option instead of telling him that he needed to get his ass in gear. Half the world had disappeared after a maniac decided that’s how he was going to deal with his problems, and Steve was hiding in a cottage in the middle of Germany. He’d had his twenty-four hours to grieve. And it was time to get back to it.

“Yea. Yea I’ll be there soon.” he said, and his voice sounded tired and resigned even to his own ears. They exchanged goodbyes and he hung up the phone, tossing it to the side so he could run his hands through his hair. He had to face the world now, or at least what was left of it.

“You’re leaving?” a soft voice came from the doorway. Nicoletta leaned against the doorframe, her small body drowning in one of his old tshirts. He opened his mouth to answer her, but found he couldn’t say the words, instead just nodding and looking down at his hands. They’d both lost so much, and he didn’t want her to lose him too.

“Come with me.” is what he said instead. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head,  _ you’re an impulsive asshole, you know that?  _ He was impulsive, he knew. It was one of his more defining qualities. Sometimes he wondered if it was one of the things the serum enhanced.

“I can’t just...leave.” she said, sounding very unconvinced of her words. He wanted to ask how she ended up in Germany instead of Romania (which, in fact, was due to her just packing up and leaving), but he held his tongue. He stood up and went to nervously wipe his damp palms on his pants, only to remember too late that he was still in nothing but boxer-briefs. 

“How about this. I’ll make you breakfast, and when we’re done, you can decide then.” he said. He didn’t want to push her or try to convince her. And he also didn’t want to admit that he didn’t want to be alone. No matter how many things happened to him, he still had to suffer in silence. 

Nicoletta nodded, softly saying, “Okay.” before going to turn on the coffee machine. He did as he promised, making her a full American breakfast that Sam would be proud of, despite the fact that since the snap neither one of them had been able to eat much. They picked at it enough to deem it eaten, and she stayed his hand on the dishes and said she would do the washing up. A quick shower, a quick packing, and before he knew it, he was walking up the ramp into the quinjet. That’s when he found himself moving slowly, putting things up and checking over controls that he knew were already set, trying to stretch the time out a little longer, his eyes flicking back to the back door every few seconds. Just when he’d given up, she came running out the backdoor, a stuffed bag banging against her hip as she ran in. Her hair was wild, her chest was heaving with the brief exertion, and her knuckles were white as she gripped the strap of her bag.

“I’ve never been to New York.” she gasped, choking on her lack of air and her words. “Mika has. When she was in university. We were supposed to go together but just...hadn’t yet.”

Steve nodded, stretching out his hand to her. She tentatively took it. “I’m a poor substitute,” he said, gripping her hand tighter than he meant to. “But I’ll give it my best shot.”

She nodded again, and tears keeping her from saying anything more. So she just settled in the chair next to him, watching him expertly set up the controls before the ramp loaded up and the plane pushed off the ground, taking them towards the answers waiting for them at the Avengers compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating last week lads! things got a little crazy. also, i'll be out of town for the next two weekends, so i probably won't be able to update then. but after that, we'll be back on task! thank you so much for all your wonderful comments, i literally live for them!!!


	65. Hope and Frustration

Mika didn’t know what she expected when she finally woke up, but somehow she was still surprised to see the red. 

It took a few long moments for her brain to shake off the amnesia, her memories returning to her one by one just like they had the day before. That was the day before, right? It wasn’t a week? Or a year? She sat up slowly, taking in the unfamiliar apartment. Right, yesterday she’d been at her old house. She’d woken up alone. She looked down at her wrist, and heaved a sigh of relief as she saw her black bracelet still there. She’d changed her clothes, figuring that she couldn’t walk around in her armor. Was this what Bucky used to feel, waking up every morning in his little apartment in Bucharest?

Bucky.

How could she have forgotten that he was here too? That she was on her way to find him? Why else would she be in this strange apartment? Idiot! She scrambled to her feet, her body feeling an odd mixture between numb and perfect. She hated this world,  _ hated it _ . Was Steve here too? Or was he on the outside, fixing everything?

Her vision began to blur, both with tears and vertigo, as the thoughts raced around her mind and panic rose in her chest. It hadn’t felt like this yesterday. Yesterday she’d been determined. But now, suddenly, all her hope was lost. She wished she could organize her thoughts somehow, get it all down so that they wouldn’t intrude on her and hold her back from what she needed to do. How had Bucky handled it? A notebook. She needed to find a notebook.

As if the world were listening to her, a little red journal and a pen were suddenly on the coffee table next to her. Had those been there before? She didn’t know, but she was glad to see them now. She flipped the cover open, clicking the pen and titling the first page  _ Day 1 _ . This was how she was going to keep track of everything. The notes started as fragments, bits and pieces of what she remembered from the day before. As the memories solidified and her blood pressure lowered, she was able to go back and fill in more details, like the state the house had been in or what the two men she encountered were wearing. She made brief notes of her conversation with Dominic, and wondered if he would continue with her today or go his own way. She hoped for the latter, but somehow knew she wouldn’t be so lucky. 

When she reached the end of her memories, she suddenly felt empty, and very heartsick for her husband. Was he back at their apartment, or had he gone looking for her too? Would he go to her mother’s cottage, only to find it empty? Or would he wait, knowing that she would come to him back at the apartment? She would give anything to talk to him right now, to sort out how she was feeling, and to try and figure out where they were going next. With a sigh, she skipped a couple lines, and starting penning a note to him. She didn’t know whether or not he would ever read it, but it still helped.

_ Today was our first day apart in years. And I didn’t like it. I’m scared of this new place, I really am, though I’d never admit it to anyone but you, because I know after you finished making fun of me for being a big baby, you’d hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay.  _

_ And everything is going to be okay, even though I feel like I’m on a wild goose chase right now trying to find you. Because even if you’re not right next to me, you’re still keeping me safe. I can protect myself now, thanks to you. Now, even though there’s a bunch of weird shit around, I know that at least I don’t have to be afraid of the people. One less thing for me to worry about, and I can focus that much more on getting back to you.  _

_ I hope you’re safe at home, waiting on my couch. And if you’re not - well, I’ll just have to look somewhere else. Miss you. Love you. _

Once she covered the first three pages with everything, she flipped to a fresh one and wrote  _ Day 2 _ at the top. She would have to be vigilant, otherwise she was going to deal with this same confusion every day they were here. She briefly wondered if they were going to be stuck here forever, but she shoved the thought out of her mind. She would have to be positive, that was the only way she was going to make it through. And even if she wasn’t positive, she could hold on to the anger she had towards Thanos, and use that as fuel when the hope started to wane. She was going to find Bucky, and then they would be together when Steve figured out how to save them. Or maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to save themselves. 

She heard rustling from the bedroom, and soon Dominic threw the door open, looking somewhat disheveled. She perked an eyebrow at his entrance but said nothing, closing her journal and putting it in the waistband of her jeans. Why hadn’t she thought to grab a bag? Just like before, as the thought finished, her purse that she hadn’t seen since Bucharest appeared on the floor, where she would have tossed it after a night out. Huh. Convenient. She slipped the journal into it and put the strap over her body before slipping on her boots, finally looking again to her unwilling companion as she stood up.

“I’m going.” she said. She would not ask if he wanted to join, it would be up to him to decide. He blinked at her a couple times, his jaw clenching as he tried to figure out what response he wanted to give her. Good, make him sweat a little. 

“Not even gonna give me a chance to wake up?” he asked, and Mika wasn’t sure if he was actually tired or just trying to manipulate her into feeling guilty and waiting for him. Four years ago she would have fallen for it, but not now.  

“You can stay if you want. Not my concern.” she replied, going to the door. He’d already slowed her down enough, she was not about to cut him any more slack. She heard him swear under his breath as she pushed the door open, and the sound of his shoes on the floor as he followed behind her. She didn’t slow her pace, exiting the building and immediately turning towards Bucharest. 

“Jesus, can we - fuck, Mika, slow down!” Dominic said, jogging to catch up with her. He was frustrated with her? Good. He deserved it. “Thought we were supposed to be going together here.”

“Thought you agreed not to talk during this adventure.” she replied cooly. She knew this new world was scary, and had to admit that she didn’t want to be completely alone, but that didn’t mean she had to be nice to her one companion. He needed her much more than she needed him. 

“Okay, seriously, what is your problem?” he said, cutting in front of her. She easily dodged around him, continuing her trek. He let out a noise of frustration, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her back. She turned and pushed him hard in the sternum, getting him to let go and give her space. “What the fuck?!”

“My problem is that you act like it is your right to accompany me, but it is, in fact, a privilege.” she seethed. How did she not realize before how entitled he was? “I get it. You don’t want to be by yourself. And I’m trying to be the bigger person here, but you’re making it really, really difficult.” 

“You’re being a spoiled brat.” he said, and she could tell he wanted to continue in whatever lame tirade that was cooking up in his head, but she cut it short.

“And you’re being an asshole. So again, you can either stick it out with me, or go it alone. Your choice.” she retorted. She wanted to let out all her anger that she didn’t realize she still had against him; she wanted to tell him how badly he’d hurt her, how he’d almost cost her everything with her friendship with Bucky, how she couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to fall in love with him. But that was the same old song and dance, and she’d moved on to better things now. So instead of continuing the conversation, she simply turned and kept walking. For a moment she heard nothing but silence, but after a moment there was the sound of someone jogging, and soon Dominic was next to her again, his mouth resolutely shut. His hands were stuffed deep in his pockets, and his eyes were on the ground, and she wondered if for once he was thinking of someone other than himself. 

They walked the entire day, once again unable to tell the passage of time with the solid red of the sky. They weren’t the only people out and about today; it seemed now people were braver, more curious, trying to find anyone they knew from the previous world or, in turn, knew anything that was going on. Mika had more information than most, but her knowledge wasn’t going to help them. It went against everything she knew to pass them by, but right now, she needed to be selfish. Once she got back to Bucky, then they could start helping others. 

Just as the red was fading into scarlet, a ripple went across the sky, so fast and so subtle that at first Mika wasn’t sure it was real or just a trick. But then another wave rolled over, bigger and slower, and followed by more of the same. Mika stopped walking and Dominic looked up at her, a question on his face. But she didn’t give him any attention, fully distracted by what was going on above them. Besides the color, there hadn’t been any sort of change in the sky, until now. A booming roar harbingered hot lightning, which spiderwebbed above them and made it look like the very atmosphere was breaking apart. Then, as suddenly as it came, it was gone. Mika’s skin felt hot and uncomfortable, tingling as if the electricity were still close by.

“Maybe we should go inside for the night.” Dominic offered, his voice quiet. He too was terrified by what they just saw, and Mika found herself nodding in agreement.

“Yea, yea that’s probably a good idea.” she said, moving a little faster to find them a place for the night before the lightning decided to return. 

…

“Anyone know what in the hell they’re trying to do?” Sam asked, tired and frustrated. They’d spent the whole “night” making sure Peter’s web fluid held up, keeping the people in robes separate. Bucky thought it would be a good idea to simply drag them to different parts of the city or test what the limits were on vitality in the stone. 

“Maybe they’re just...trying to break us all out of here.” Peter offered. “Maybe we should talk to them and figure it out.”

“No.” Bucky said immediately. He did not think that  _ talking _ would help this situation. Granted, he almost never thought talking was going to help the situation. 

“But what if-” Peter tried to continue, but once again was cut off by Sam.

“Shut it. So what, we just throw them in the river?” he said, gesturing towards the Hudson. Bucky shrugged in response.

“But hey guys-”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any.” Bucky replied. Surely they couldn’t die if they were already dead, right? They just needed to take care of these guys, then they could find the wizard and go after Mika. 

“Guys!” Peter finally had enough, shouting loudly to get their attention. Both men turned to him, annoyed and not doing anything to hide it.

“What?” they snapped at the same time. 

“Should we be worried that somebody  _ else _ is talking to them?” he asked rhetorically, gesturing towards where the people - if they could be called people, they still seemed like aliens - were still wrapped up on the concrete. Sure enough, there was a blonde woman sitting on the concrete next to the youngest member of the group. Now that they were really looking, they realized he was just a kid, a very scared kid. But that didn’t mean they felt sorry for him.

“Excuse me? Can we-” Sam stopped his sarcastic interruption as the woman turned her head to them, her ponytail flipping over her shoulder. Bucky and Peter both stopped, while Sam looked like he was seeing a ghost. “O?” 

“Who the hell is O?” Bucky asked, exasperated that yet another wrench was thrown into the plan. 

“Samuel Wilson, well I never.” the blonde said in a very convincing Southern accent. Bucky flinched; he hadn’t heard anyone speak like that since his Army days. Luckily, she dropped it quickly, adopting a thick New York accent. “Shoulda known I would run into you.”

“World ends and somehow we still can’t escape each other.” Sam said in feux displeasure. Peter leaned close to Bucky, closer than what he was comfortable with, and whispered too loudly,

“Do you know who that is?” 

“Not a clue, kid.” Bucky replied. ‘O’ had gotten up, giving some sort of goodbye to the kid and coming over to them. She was slightly older than they had originally thought, early thirties perhaps, with startlingly green eyes that were way too serious for either of their comfort. She greeted Sam with a hug before turning to them, holding out a hand and adopting a professional persona. 

“Olana Morrison.” she said, giving both Bucky and Peter a firm handshake. Peter looked completely overwhelmed, though to be fair that wasn’t far from his baseline. She gestured at his uniform, seemingly excited. “Hey, Spiderman, right? You found my niece’s bike for her. Thanks for that.”

“Oh, uh, yea, no problem.” he said, both proud and confused by the praise. “My name’s Peter, by the way. Peter Parker. Or Spiderman. Whatever’s easiest.” 

“Right. Nice to meet you, Peter.” she said. She turned to Bucky, who was somewhat less enthused to interact with another stranger. “You look familiar.”

“You might have read about me in a museum. Or saw me on the news.” he deadpanned, still shaking her hand that she presented. She looked at him with those sharp eyes, and he could see the wheels turning as she tried to place his face. He also saw the moment where it all clicked into place, but luckily was saved from her reaction by Sam coming over to them. 

“So you have any clue what’s going on over there?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The kid was still looking between them and the other occult members. They all seemed much older than him, which made Bucky extremely wary. No one kept kids around for no reason...unless they were spider-enhanced kids that wouldn’t leave you alone.

“See, I tried to tell them that we should talk to them but-” Peter explained, and Olana listened to him like the professional she was. Unfortunately, Sam could never let him get a word in edgewise.

“You beat us to it.” he said, giving her what he believed was a charming smile. Luckily, Olana saw right through it, blinking heavily to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. 

“Bullshit.” was the response she finally decided on, making Sam’s jaw drop in surprise. Peter looked appalled at the language, though Bucky knew for a  _ fact _ the kid had heard the word before. And Bucky? Bucky was just glad that someone besides him was calling Sam on it. “Really, Sam? What was the next plan of action here, throw them in the river?”

“Oh my God, can she read minds?” Peter asked, and the look on his face said that none of them wanted to know the things that had been running through his head. Sam let out a snort.

“No, she just thinks she can. Don’t encourage it.” he said, shaking his head. Olana looked like she wanted to reply, but Bucky cut her off. As much as he wanted to see his friend get ripped to shreds by the woman, he wanted to be done with this self-appointed mission and get back to looking for his wife.

“What did the kid have to say?” he asked, bringing the focus back. Once again she looked uncertain whether or not she should be afraid of him, but a quick glance at Sam and Peter seemed to solidify her confidence.

“Long story short, they believe this was the promised apocalypse, and they’re the chosen ones to free us all.” she said, and Sam let out an audible groan while Bucky felt his whole body sag. He did not have time to deal with religious zealots.

“But how were they able to do that thing? With the beam and the sky? I mean, no one should be able to do that, right?” Peter asked, sending out another web towards a guy who looked like he was about to wriggle free. 

“Well, I’m no expert on the occult or whatever this whole situation is,” she said, gesturing widely with her hands. “but it seems belief plays a big part of where we’re at. So even if they didn’t have powers back in our previous life, if they think they have them here…” 

“Then the stone will give it to them.” Sam finished, his jaw clenching. None of them would consider themselves persuasive, unless they could use very...manual methods. 

“So some stone brought us here?” Olana asked, and Bucky remembered once again that not everyone knew what had happened in Wakanda. 

“It was a bunch of stones, and a Titan named Thanos, I fought him on his home planet with Dr. Strange and Tony - I mean, Iron Man, and see he was trying to gather all the infinity stones - which are like, these cosmic things that can alter time and space and reality and stuff - so that he could-” Peter had the best intentions with his explanation, he really did, but no one had the time for it at that moment.

“Long story short, dude snapped away half the living creatures in the universe to try and create balance. So yes, stones brought us here. But the running theory is that we’re stuck  _ in _ one of them.” Sam summarized. Olana stared at him for a long time, trying to determine if he was lying, and eventually came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, telling the truth. 

“Well. That certainly complicates things.” she said, looking back at the people they’d webbed up. Now that it was light again and Bucky could see a bit clearer, he noticed the blue undertone of their skin, and the slight point to their ears. They all stared at them with large, unblinking eyes; some were trying to look defiant, but most of them just looked scared. “They’re just trying to do right by their beliefs.”

“How can we convince them they’re wrong?” Bucky asked. He didn’t know her qualifications for this, or how she knew anything. He just wanted to make sure this world - however it was made - stayed intact. She sighed, looking to Sam. 

“Care to work one last case together?” she asked. He gestured towards the beings in front of them. 

“Lead the way.” he said. She nodded, going back to the group, Peter following close behind her. Bucky caught up to Sam, whispering out of the corner of his mouth,

“And who exactly is she?” 

“I believe you grandpas would call her an  _ old flame _ .” he said, making Bucky let out a huff of a laugh. How bad would it suck for the world to end, and then to get stuck with your ex?

Sam’s ex, turned out, was a therapist at the VA - an actual licensed one - and led the group in a productive (for the most part) conversation discussing the basis of their beliefs, the hypothesized mechanics of the stone, and where the two may overlap. The aliens, who were technically all New York citizens, had been born on earth after a part of their colony went searching for the stones. All but the youngest were born shortly after Steve went into the ice, and had lived American lives for that entire time. The fact that there were six stones instead of one great cosmic power was new to them, but considering the rumors that tended to float around the galaxy, it made sense. Most seemed receptive to the information, but some were determined to hold on, despite the overwhelming evidence that they were mistaken.

“But if we’re wrong, then how were we able to summon the Fire?” one man asked snidely, his chest puffed in an illusion of strength. 

“You can summon most anything, if you try hard enough.” Olana offered. “But that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to destroy this world.”

“Prove it.” he spat, and Bucky actually rolled his eyes this time. This was  _ not _ what he needed. Olana nodded, thinking for a second before closing her eyes. Something flickered next to her, and soon there was a leather jacket laying on the ground. With a smile, she picked it up and pulled it on, finding that it fit perfectly. The man scoffed. “Too easy.”

“See that restaurant there?” Bucky said, looking to some hipster cafe that probably charged three times what a plate was worth. The guy looked over, and was clearly familiar with the place. “Used to be a bank. Closed back in 1931, in the height of the Depression. Memories change things here.” he concluded as the face of the building changed, the sign proudly displaying Williams Bank Co. The man didn’t have a response to that, though his demeanor shifted. Good, they’d put a crack in his armor.

“Look, if we thought this was a feasible option, we wouldn’t stop you. But we’ve seen the guy, tried to stop him - and failed. But we still got people on the outside who’re gonna fix this. And until then, we gotta live with what’s here.” Sam said, using a tone of voice that Bucky had never heard from him. Perhaps that was his VA meeting voice.

“Give it time. This place is sustainable. We just have to have a little patience, that’s all.” Olana said with a smile bright enough that it made them want to believe it. Bucky honestly couldn’t care less whether they had a bright outlook on their new life, but he kept a neutral face; they could believe what they wanted, as long as they didn’t destroy anything. Once they agreed not to try and blow this world to smithereens, Bucky pulled out his utility knife (wondering if it had been there this whole time) and cut them loose of their ties. He half expected them to immediately join and start chanting again, but instead they just dusted themselves off and started walking away without another word. He didn’t trust that.

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your touch.” Sam said with a grin. The young kid was sticking by Olana, visibly afraid of the people walking away. And if he was afraid, then Bucky thought they should probably keep an eye on them.   


“Well, someone has to have it together around here.” she replied. “But you guys have it handled from here. I’m gonna help Malcolm here find his mom upstate.”

“If she’s here.” Bucky pointed out, which earned him a strong glare from her. He ducked his head down, heeding her silent command to  _ not _ try and kill any hope the kid might have. 

“Well, thanks for your help. It was good to see you, O.” Sam said, and Bucky thought he looked a little sad to see her go. She gave him a hug and ruffled Peter’s hair, giving Bucky a cordial handshake before pulling away. They watched as she walked off, her arm around the kid’s shoulders, heading north through the streets. When she was no longer visible, they all seemed to deflate, exhausted with what just happened. Peter actually bent at the waist, resting his hands on his knees and letting out a long breath as he hung his head. Ah, the hubris of youth, thinking the world ever stopped. 

Just when they thought the dust had settled, just when Bucky thought he was finally going to be able to find his way to Romania, another pillar of fire leapt into the sky, a few city blocks over. Their speech had done nothing. 

“You’ve got to be  _ shitting _ me.” Bucky muttered before taking off at a run towards the flames.

…

Nicoletta paced around the living room of Steve’s apartment at the compound, wringing her hands and trying to be patient. They were going to space, after all. They weren’t going to be able to fix everything in just a few hours, or even a couple days. And so she stayed in the apartment, pacing and wringing and thinking of everything right and wrong and in between that had happened over the past few years. She certainly hadn’t thought that she’d ever see her sister’s superhero friends again, and certainly didn’t think that anything would progress, and  _ really _ didn’t think that she’d end up shaking up at the Avengers compound after a universal disaster. But that was the turn her life was taking, and she was trying to roll with it. 

Her mother hadn’t answered the phone since the snap. All her friends seemed to be safe, but she didn’t want to see them right now. She felt separated from them, both by her knowledge and her losses. Was coming to New York the right choice? Probably not. But it helped her forget that she was alone now. Steve and Natasha were the closest thing to family she had.

Lights flared from the lawn, and she ran to the window to see the space craft landing on the grass. She immediately took off towards the door, running through the compound until she finally pushed through the outer doors. She didn’t know what was going to happen once they fixed everything, didn’t know how it was all going to change back. The world felt the same, but it had to be different, right? They wouldn’t be coming back if it weren’t. 

The ramp lowered and she stopped at the foot of it, staring into the darkness of the cabin until she saw movement. Thor was first, taking off into the sky without a second glance. Natasha and Clint came next, their eyes downcast as they walked by her. Then came Steve, looking as if he’d aged a decade and was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. She was rooted to the ground as he came down the ramp, coming to a stop in front of her.

“I’m sorry.” he said. His voice was low and raspy, the words sticking in his throat. He couldn’t meet her eyes. She waited for him to say something, anything else, but he stayed silent.

“But I thought…” she trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.  _ I thought you were going to fix it. I thought you were going to save her. I thought everything was going to be alright.  _ Her eyes filled with tears, her chest seizing as the reality set in. Steve stepped to her and held her tight, the rough fabric of his uniform irritating her cheek as she sobbed into his chest. She wanted to be mad at him, hit him, scream at him, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. Not really. And if she was honest, she couldn’t risk losing someone else. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” he said again. He had nothing else he could offer. 


	66. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: death and description of depression this chapter

_ Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh fuck oh shit- _

Aunt May would  _ kill _ him if she could hear his inner dialogue right now. But, to be fair, there were weird alien occultists trying to destroy the world, after some weird Titan guy  _ already _ destroyed the world, so the language was maybe, probably, totally warranted. Peter swung through the streets of New York, not thinking about whether or not he could run out of web fluid here, or what would happen if he fell, and whether or not it was different than if he fell out in the real world (cause there’s no way  _ this _ was the real world). All he could focus on was getting to the literal burning tower of fire breaking into the sky, the heat of it hitting him even a full city block away. He could hear the sound of the Falcon flying behind him, and even further behind that, the sound of Mr. Bucky’s boots as he ran through the streets. What would Mr. Stark say, knowing that he was teaming up with these two guys now to try and save the world? He imagined he’d say something along the lines of  _ careful, kid, you never know what people are planning _ . But perhaps that was just in his head; after all, Mr. Stark had joined forces with weird aliens and wizards to try and take down Thanos, so maybe working with Falcon and the Winter Soldier wasn’t too much of a stretch.

The same robed people were back in their circle, and even though they were short a member their power seemed to be the same, which was uncool but not entirely unexpected. Peter stopped as he reached the intersection, wondering if he should just go ahead and web them up again or if that would just be a waste of time. Falcon landed next to him, apparently having the same train of thought, and a few minutes later, Mr. Bucky skidded to a halt, his expression stony and serious. 

“Back on their bullshit.” Falcon said with a heavy sigh. If Peter didn’t know any better, he’d say the guy sounded annoyed more than terrified that the very fabric of their existence was about to unravel.

“What’re we gonna do?” he asked, not bothering to hide the fear in his voice. He’d already died once, and it had hurt! Bad! He didn’t want to go through that again! 

“I still stand by the river plan.” Bucky deadpanned. “Or we can just take them out, they don’t seem to have any extra physical capabilities.”

“Besides that magic bullshit.” Sam replied. The sky was starting to ripple and wave, meaning that they were going to have to make a decision, and quick.

“But we can’t hurt them...can we?” Peter asked, only to be ignored by the other two. He wasn’t some stupid kid, why were they always ignoring him?

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a no-kill spree?” Falcon questioned him, and Bucky simply shrugged in response. Peter clamped his mouth shut at that; if everything was fair game, perhaps he didn’t want to irritate the guy with questionable morals and a deep skill set. 

“Survival is another story.” he replied, and Peter wondered if it was his spider senses that picked up the odd tone in his voice or if it was obvious to everyone else too. That wasn’t his main concern though, his heart rate immediately spiking at the implication.

“Whoa whoa whoa, no, we can’t just - I mean - kill them?” he whispered the last part, as if the chanting people would hear them. If they’d even noticed their presence, they clearly weren’t threatened by them. “I’m - I’m the friendly neighborhood Spiderman! I don’t kill people!” 

“We’re not in your neighborhood, Spiderpunk.” Falcon said, his voice turned militaristic. He put up a tough front, Peter knew, but he could also see the way his jaw clenched as he said it. He didn’t want to kill them either, but Bucky was right, this was a matter of survival. And not just for them, either - for everyone. Speaking of, he looked between Falcon and Peter, and Peter saw the moment where something in his mind changed, though he couldn’t exactly say to what. If they ever got out of this place, he was going to have to find someone to teach him how to read people. 

“I got this. You two just cover me.” the Winter Soldier said, pulling two knives out from his uniform. He didn’t give Falcon or Peter any time to fight him on the matter, striding purposefully towards the circle of people. The ground underneath them was starting to shake and splinter; they were out of time. The Winter Soldier broke into a run, readying himself to take on the multiple enemies, but before he could reach them an orange rune circle appeared on the concrete, with tendrils spidering out and wrapping around each of the people. Dr. Strange appeared in the sky, physically pushing the column of fire down until he reached the base, a loud  _ boom _ echoing around them when he hit the ground. More light and runes danced out from where he kneeled, running in a wave over the ground and the buildings until it was completely out of sight. Peter watched as the people stopped, tried to start again, and found that their powers could no longer take hold.

“What the fuck?” Bucky muttered, and Peter couldn’t help but share his sentiments. He knew Dr. Strange was powerful, but this was completely different from what he’d seen on Titan. His shock at the turn in events was immediately overcome by his joy of finding just the man they were looking for.

“Dr. Strange!” he exclaimed, running to join them with Falcon not far behind. “See? I told you, this is the guy we needed to find. He knows what’s going on, he can get us out of here.”

“Afraid not, Peter.” Dr. Strange said. He eyed Falcon and Bucky, and both of them had the impression that, even if he couldn’t get them out, he knew a lot more about what was going on than the rest of them. Peter faltered, unsure of where to go from here but determined to remain optimistic.

“But you at least know how to deal with all of this, obviously, I mean-” he gestured at the occultists, who were still trying to start up their fire again. Peter wondered how long they had until they turned on them. “You stopped them. You changed something in this place. So you can fix it all, right?” 

“Unfortunately that’s not how this works.” he said. He stamped his foot on the ground, and the orange light spread until it shocked the occultists, knocking them completely unconscious. “I was able to seal it so that no one could destroy it from the inside. But for us to be released, we’ll need help from the outside.”

“So what you’re saying is, we’re stuck here.” Falcon said lowly, putting his hands on his hips. He muttered a few swears under his breath, letting his frustration at the situation show. Peter stammered for a minute, his mind whirring as he tried to come up with a solution. 

“But your powers, the magic, the - the - the portals! You can just portal us out of here, right?” he asked. There we go! Problem solved! It would take some time to get through everyone, sure - or maybe they could gather as many people as possible, and create one big portal-

“You can make portals to other places?” Bucky asked, a sudden eagerness in his voice. Oh shit! His wife! Peter had completely forgotten about her. How could he have forgotten about her? Well, probably because he was trying to save the world. Again. 

“Yea he can! Dr. Strange, Mr. Wint-I mean, Mr. Bucky here needs to get his wife, and I told him that if we can find you that you can help, cause she’s not here in New York she’s in...uh…” he trailed off. Where was she again? Had Bucky even told him? He couldn’t remember. So much had happened already, it was hard to keep it straight.

“That’s not how this  _ works _ .” he reiterated. “We’re not on earth, Peter. My traveling requires one solid reality to function. We’re stuck in a conglomerate of billions of realities.”

“But then how did you get here?!” he asked. He wasn’t from New York, he knew that much. Wasn’t he from some other planet? Or another dimension? How did he get all the way to New York in such a short time?

“I’m from Philadelphia, I walked.” he stated, his words twisting the knife in Peter’s gut.

“Oh.” he said lamely, deflated. It was all he could think to say. He’d hedged all his bets on the wizard, and turns out Bucky was kind of right - he was just a man behind the curtain. Granted, this man behind the curtain was also able to shut down people trying to destroy whatever reality they had left, but he couldn’t get them out of there. Falcon was right, they were stuck. “So we just...wait?”

“We wait, and we hope that everything happens the way it’s supposed to.” he said. Peter didn’t really like that answer, and it didn’t seem to sit well with Falcon or Bucky either. The latter nodded resolutely, taking a step back from them.

“In that case, this is where I leave.” he said, and once again panic flared in Peter’s chest. Didn’t he know what happened when the party split up? Bad things! Terrible things! He moved to be in front of him, and the look he gave him made him actually, legitimately afraid for the first time since they’d teamed up the day before. It must have shown on his face (May did always say he was terrible at hiding his thoughts), because Bucky let the intimidating look fall away, leaving him just looking tired. “Move, kid.”

“No, no we have to stick together.” Peter tried to reason. But what reason could he give him now? There was no one trying to burn down the world, and the wizard couldn’t help him. He had every right to walk away now. 

“There’s going to be disorder. People will need help to stay safe.” Dr. Strange offered, and for a second Peter was surprised that he was helping. Once again, he got the annoying impression that he wasn’t saying everything he knew. 

“All the more reason for me to find my wife then.” Mr. Bucky replied. Falcon gave him a nod of approval, and Peter wondered if he knew her, if they were friends. In fact, he almost looked like he wanted to join him. 

“She will protect herself.” Dr. Strange said, and Mr. Bucky’s gaze hardened. His tense muscles gave off such an energy that Peter actually took a step back without thinking about it.

“I am getting  _ really  _ tired,” he said, his voice so calm and controlled that it was scary, “of people telling me  _ not to go find my wife _ .”

“There’s a reason-” Dr. Strange began, but Bucky exploded.

“Fuck your reasons!” he exclaimed. “The world is shit. Everything has gone to shit. And you expect me to stay here while my  _ wife _ is out there, dealing with God knows what, and simply wait because of this bullshit or that. I’m done dealing with this.” He tried to walk away, but an orange rune circle appeared beneath his feet, freezing him in place. His metal fist clenched, the plates clicking softly and the machinery underneath it whirring as he built up power. “Let. Me. Go.”

“All the important players are coming here.” Dr. Strange explained. “You leave now, you miss her. You will pass like two ships in the night, and I cannot promise that you will be able to meet again.” 

Peter watched as Mr. Bucky closed his eyes, his forehead scrunched in a ton of emotions that he couldn’t make sense of. “If this turns out to be more bullshit,” he said lowly, threat lacing every word, “then we are going to find out if you can die in this place.” 

“Trust me, my own sense of self preservation is strong enough that I do not make empty promises.” he replied, letting go of the circle. They stood in silence for a moment, Falcon and Peter looking at each other awkwardly while Mr. Bucky refused to meet any of their eyes. Frustration was coming off of him in waves, and Peter wondered if everyone could feel it, or just him. A commotion started a couple blocks away, with the distinct sounds of yelling and fists hitting bodies. Three of them looked towards it, trying to tell the exact direction. One stayed staring at the concrete, but faced his body directly toward it.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Mr. Bucky said through clenched teeth, stalking towards the sound of the fight. Peter, Falcon, and Dr. Strange could do nothing but follow him. 

…

_ Day Three _

_ We finally made it to the apartment. The weird sky thing happened again, but this time it stopped out of nowhere, and then after that, some weird symbols appeared on the ground. They were only there for a second. Is this just a thing that’s going to happen? This place is fucked up. _

_ It’s strange being in my old place - our old place. There’s signs of you everywhere. Even our wet clothes from your birthday are still where we threw them when we came back in. The sheets are still torn from when we had- _

_ Day Four _

_ Elena and Nicolae’s apartments were empty, and Hans wasn’t in the pub. I didn’t care to look for Alexei, considering the first thing I’d do if I saw him again was punch him in the face. I know you’ve long forgiven him, but I will probably hold a grudge either till I die or until I’m able to hit him.  _

_ I went into your apartment today. It’s exactly as I remember it of course. Your journal was there, but all the pages were blank. I guess that’s what I get for being nosy, but really I just wanted to see your thoughts from when we first met- _

_ Day Five _

_ Sometimes I wonder if this is actually hell and no one told me. Why else would I be stuck with Dominic instead of with you? I miss you. I miss you so much. It kinda pisses me off, if I’m honest- _

_ Day Six _

_ The bed is too big without you- _

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mika screeched, and while the volume kind of hurt his ears, he made an effort to keep his calm exterior. After all, she was the one writing shitty journal entries crying about how much she missed her weird neighbor guy. Fucking pathetic.

“I was curious about what you were scribbling down every night. Turned out to be even worse than I expected.” he said, snapping the journal closed. He could see the anger on her face, and couldn’t help but smirk. God, it was still so  _ fun _ to piss her off. She stomped over to him and snatched it away from him, holding the book close to her chest like a middle school diary.

“And what exactly were you expecting?” she asked through clenched teeth. Oh, he’d really done it this time. He felt a sense of pride at her response; after a week of minimal contact, it felt good to pester her again. 

“Well more about me, for starters. Even if it is negative.” he replied, trying not to sound as salty as he felt. He’d done everything she asked of him, and yet she still couldn’t be bothered to give him more than very minimal attention. Once again, she was missing out on everything he was doing for her. She rolled her eyes at his words, putting her journal in her bag and going to the kitchen, pulling out a large knife from the drawer. He shot to his feet and moved so the couch was between them, his hands out in front of him like he was trying to placate a mad crocodile. “Now now, love, no need to get hasty, I was just taking a peak-”

“This isn’t for you, no matter how much I wish it was.” she said sharply, pulling the little cardboard sheath from the kitchen knife. She went to the front door and pulled it open, but didn’t go down the stairs, instead turning towards the large wall next to her apartment and carving into it.

“Have you gone mad?” he asked, still wary to go near her when she was holding such a sharp weapon. He tried to see what she was carving, but the angle was too acute. “Or is this a new art installation? Taking after your younger sister now?”

“You don’t ever get to talk about my sister.” Mika said, pointing at him with the knife, and for the first time he realized that she probably did know how to use it. When he held up his hands in fake innocence, she turned back to her wall. That’s when he noticed that she was dressed in her boots and jeans again, and the bag she’d tucked the journal into wasn’t the small purse, but instead a larger one.

“What’s going on, Mika?” he asked. She didn’t answer, instead just cutting deep lines into the plaster. “Mika!” 

“Same shit, different day.” she replied, not taking her eyes off her task. He felt anger boil in his chest, his neck growing hot with it. She always thought she was so goddamn smart with her stupid, cryptic comments. He opened his mouth to snap at her, but she stopped her motions, stepping back to look at the final product. Without another word, she tucked the knife into her bag, grabbed her baseball bat from the door, and started down the stairs. Dominic stared after her for a moment before scrambling into the hallway, watching as she descended with a purpose. He turned to the wall to see what she’d scribbled on it, swearing loudly as he read the short message. 

_ B- _

_ Went to NY. _

_ -M _

“Shit shit shit-” Dominic ran after Mika, pissed that she was leaving without asking him and even more pissed that she didn’t seem to care to let him catch up. He shoved the front door open and ran to catch up with her, remembering with a half second to spare not to grab onto her. “What the fuck, Mika?”

“You’re home, Dominic. Our trip is over. I’m going to New York to find Bucky.” she said resolutely, still walking. God, he hated when she was so stubborn! 

“So you were just going to leave, then? No goodbye, no nothing?” he asked. She didn’t look at him; in fact, she had the most irritating smirk on her face.

“I don’t need your permission. You asked to come with me to Bucharest, and we’re in Bucharest. You’re on your own from here.” she said. She looked like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Was she actually  _ happy _ to get rid of him? After everything?

“You didn’t ask yourself why Bucky didn’t come here for you?” he said, digging in deep in a place that he knew would hurt her. He didn’t want her to go back to her sham of a marriage; she was supposed to stay here with him. That was the plan. But her steps didn’t falter.

“He has a habit of getting tangled up helping people, even if it hurts him.” she said, casting a wayward glance at him. “So no, I didn’t ask myself that, because I trust that he’s waiting for me.” 

“You’re delusional.” he stated.

“And you’re a prick.” she retorted. 

“Do you even know how to get to New York?” he asked, a last ditch effort. He felt everything spinning out of his control, and he  _ hated _ not being in control. Mika shrugged in response. 

“The coast is west. I’ll start there.” she said, gripping the strap of her bag tightly with one hand. Ah, so she was a little nervous. 

“And what if the weird sky thing happens again?” he dug in more, trying to make her doubt this trip even as she continued her strong pace down the sidewalk. Up ahead of them, two men stood on a balcony, arguing loudly. Across the street, a woman and her child sat on the curb, playing with some toy he couldn’t see. People were starting to get used to this life, if it could even be called that. 

“Then I’ll find a place to stay, just like I did all those other times.” she said. Was she implying that he did nothing to help them? Sure, he didn’t find them shelter, and perhaps he’d forgotten the route back to Bucharest, but still! His presence kept other men from bothering her, and she should be grateful for that! 

“You’re going to get hurt.” he said, and despite his anger, worry started to simmer beneath the surface. He’d already lost her once...okay, twice...okay, four times, but he would  _ not _ lose her again. Not this time. Not when fate was clearly pushing them together. 

“I can take care of myself, thank you.” she said. The argument down the street was louder now, but he couldn’t tell if it was due to their proximity or if it were simply escalating. It made his nerves feel on edge. 

“You don’t know that. You don’t know who you could meet out there. There could be crazy people.” he said, making her roll her eyes.

“Always so dramatic.” she sighed. “We’re stuck in a stone. I think I can handle anything that comes my way.” 

The two men were yelling full on now, shoving each other around the balcony. Their words were completely mixed together so that they couldn’t even get the gist of their argument. Dominic didn’t know why his eyes were drawn to them, but it was probably because they were almost directly overhead, and their voices so loud that he couldn’t even hear himself think. He saw as one guy pushed the other too hard, time seeming to slow down as his back hit the railing, then as his momentum and whatever form of gravity they had here slowly tipped him over the edge. The other guy’s face changed immediately, his hands fumbling to grab onto the man’s legs, but the first man was free falling. Dominic grabbed hold of Mika’s bag strap, ignoring her protests and pulling her backwards. She started to yell at him, but saw the man too, both of them stopped with their jaws dropped as he fell and landed on the pavement in front of them. The noise was sickening, and the silence that followed even more so.

They thought they couldn’t get hurt in this world, but one look at the man told them they were wrong. Mika ran up to him, shaking off Dominic’s arm and going to kneel next to him. There was no blood, but his eyes were unfocused, his mouth spasming as he tried to form words with the little air his lungs could produce. Something was wrong with the back of his head, but they didn’t want to move him to find out exactly what. Mika held his hand and tried to talk to him in soothing tones, but he was clearly fading fast. 

Dominic soon realized that he wasn’t just figuratively fading, but also  _ literally _ fading. As he died, his body started disintegrating, turning to dust just the way they had when the snap first happened. Soon there was nothing but a pile of ash, and Mika’s hands were stained grey with the man’s remains. Well, this certainly changed things.

“Please don’t leave me on my own.” Dominic said, his voice shaking despite his best efforts. He was scared, and the only way he was going to keep himself alive was to be honest about it. “Please, Mika, you can take care of yourself I know but I...I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how to fight, or to protect myself. I know I’ve fucked up with you but...please.” he said. Mika rolled her lips in, staring long and hard at the dust before closing her eyes and sighing.

“Let’s go.” she said quietly, not even looking up at him. She didn’t sound happy, or scared, or even annoyed. She just sounded tired. Dominic didn’t even care, he was just glad she didn’t say no.

…

Nicoletta was at a complete loss.

She’d meant to go back home - back to Germany, or Romania, or wherever her plane landed. She’d meant to hold a service for her sister, and her mother, and her brother-in-law. She’d meant to tell Steve it was okay, she understood, that she knew that he tried his best. She meant to comfort him as he was hurting from the loss of his family too. But the night he’d returned, they’d laid down in bed, and she just hadn’t managed to get back up again.

_ Get up _ , she could hear her mother saying to her.  _ You’re fine. It’s just your feelings. You always feel too much _ .

_ Stay and rest, _ her sister’s voice came to her.  _ Let me make you cookies and tea. We’ll watch Netflix until you feel better _ .

“Hey.” Steve’s voice interrupted her thoughts as he came to sit next to her on the edge of the bed. He was quiet, subdued, just as he had been for the past few days. She adjusted so she could see him, but the idea of picking her head up was still too much. He reached out, gently brushing her hair away from her face. God, it must be so tangled by now. “How is it today?”

“The same.” she sighed. Her family was still gone. He reached down and pulled up a bag.

“I got you something.” he said, revealing a large sketchpad and her favorite brand of pencils. Her eyes watered at the gesture, and she wished she could feel any sort of excitement, but she still just felt empty. She ran her fingertips over the cover of the pad, the familiar cardboard calling to her. Maybe she didn’t feel empty. Maybe she was so full of emotions that she had to get some out in order to feel any of them. She slowly sat up, her joints protesting and her head swimming at the movement. Steve put an arm around her to steady her, and she leaned into his side. He was solid, he was here, and she’d abandoned him.

“How do you do it?” she asked, half into his shirt. It wasn’t what she meant to say; she’d meant to apologize. But she could do that later. He leaned his head against hers, and his shoulders sagged with the weight of everyone they’d lost. 

“Not well.” he finally responded. “I keep hoping today will be the day someone will figure something out...and when they don’t, I’m just on autopilot.”

“Hm, autopilot.” she said with a half-hearted laugh, even though it wasn’t amusing at all. “Isn’t that what got you into this mess in the first place?”

The joke was lame, and horrible, and she shouldn’t have made it. But he snorted at it, which made her giggle, and soon they were both laughing too hard at the bad gag. She wasn’t even sure what they were laughing at at that point, but damn did it feel good to laugh. 

“Ah, shit.” Steve sighed, finally getting himself under control. Nicoletta shifted, letting her legs fall off the edge of the bed so that she was sitting next to him. He grasped her hand, hers feeling small and cold as he held it. The color was coming back into her face, though he knew it would still be a while before she was smiling like she used to. She put a hand on her stomach, her brows furrowed deep in thought. His brows rose at the action; what was she thinking? “What? What is it?”

“I think I’m...” she trailed off, and a billion different endings went through his mind before she finally said, “hungry.”

“God, gimme a heart attack.” he said, shaking his head. “Well hunger, I can deal with. What do you want me to bring you?”

“I kind of want to go down to the dining room.” she said, nodding to herself as if she were still deciding it. She looked up at him then, and he gave her a small smile.

“To the dining room it is, then.” he said softly, as if afraid to scare her back under the covers. She nodded again, then paused.

“I think I need to shower first.” she added, cracking a small smile. He grinned in return, shrugging his shoulders.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but…” he left the tease hanging, and she pouted and pinched his elbow, just as she would have before. They were both hurting, both still trying to figure out what they were going to do and how they were going to deal with all of this. Circumstances had brought them together, when they probably would - or should - have never even known each other. But now, they were one of the few left behind.

And together, they’d figure out how to heal, too.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wellp! things are getting crazy!
> 
> just curious, since we've got a whole flippin year until falcon and winter soldier...would y'all prefer fluffy slice of life stuff, an au story for bucky and mika, or a new bucky story (i've got one in the works)? just curious! hope you liked this chapter!


	67. Ain't No River

The knowledge that life was not permanent in the stone made Mika much more careful as they continued their trek west. They came across plenty of other people fighting, sometimes over people or sometimes over locations. She tried to stop a few of them, figuring people didn’t know how permanent their actions could be, but she soon realized that this could quickly become a question of her own safety. And as much as she hated to see it all happening, she put her head down and continued walking, focusing on her task. It was hard enough to figure out which direction they needed to go since there was no sun to direct them; they couldn’t afford any other distractions. 

She wished she could take her time as they walked, wished she could explore the areas and the landmarks that they passed, but she needed to get to New York. The world hadn’t tried to break apart since that last time, but that didn’t mean that it was solid or safe. And if she was going to have to watch the world end  _ again _ , then she was going to do it the same way she did the first time - in her husband’s arms. She did take solace in the fact that this wasn’t the actual real world that she was traveling through; one day, when they were able to get out of here, she and Bucky would go back and visit all these places. They would take pictures and eat food and meet all the people, and in between adventures they would go back home to their little corner of the world and live the life they’d always wanted. Once they got back, they could have a  _ family _ . 

She tried not to think about the news Lwazi gave her that last day on earth, knowing that if she let it come to the forefront of her mind then she wouldn’t be able to shake it. And she had goals that she needed to achieve. It was only late at night, after she’d filled a page or two in her journal and Dominic had sulked into another room after once again giving the  _ we’re both adults _ clown act, that she allowed her hands to rest on her abdomen and tried to feel any sign of life. And every night, before she could come to any conclusion, she shoved the thought away and tried to sleep. 

She felt completely elated when she looked up and realized that the street signs were in French. France! France was a coastal country! She couldn’t help but increase her pace, her heart in her throat the whole time as they kept going west. And yet, as she got lighter and happier, Dominic seemed to get more surly, and what little conversation she allowed was brusque and agitated. And the closer they got to the ocean, the angrier he got. 

Mika felt like she could breathe again the moment they stepped into Le Havre. This was it, the moment she’d been working towards. But while she was eager to keep going, Dominic seemed to be grasping for any excuse for them to slow down, gesturing towards the darkening sky and the people milling about. He’d been dragging his feet the past couple days, and now he was full on digging in his heels.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” Mika finally asked, rounding on him in the middle of the street. The city was more populated than most that they stayed in, making it more difficult for them to find a place to stay. 

“I don’t have a problem.” he said petulantly, actually crossing his arms and looking away from her like a child. 

“Clearly you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be a bigger asshole than usual these past few days.” she pointed out, making him roll his eyes.

“I’ve just been following your stupid rules. Nothing more, nothing less.” he stated, a muscle in his jaw clenching as he held in whatever was in his mind. Mika perked an eyebrow at that; Dominic was never one to think before he spoke, or to hold anything back. She crossed her arms over her chest, deciding to take a different approach.

“I’m going to the docks tomorrow. And from there, hopefully I can charter a boat to New York.” she said, watching his face closely. Just as she expected, his cheeks colored red, his gaze hardening.

“So you’re still on about that?” he asked lowly, showing an impressive amount of restraint. Or perhaps it was just the calm before the store. This time, it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“And you still think I’m going to change my mind?” she countered, not bothering to hide her tone. She’d given him too many chances over the last couple weeks, and he was on dangerously thin ice. If she was honest, she hoped that he would stay in France, and let her continue on her own. It was getting harder and harder to say yes to him. His facade finally broke and he threw his hands up in indignation.

“He’s not coming for you! Stop pretending that your marriage to that creep mattered to you!” he exclaimed, making Mika’s jaw drop. Anger rose in her like a tsunami, but before the words could come crashing out of her mouth, she stopped, and took a breath. She needed Dominic to know, to understand, that this was not something he was going to win.

“I’m pregnant, Dominic.” she said. She didn’t know if it was still true or not, but he didn’t need to know that. This time it was his turn to be shocked, even speechless for a moment at her admission. And before he could get any words out, he was interrupted by someone calling his name in a decidedly French accent.

“ _ Dominique! _ ” she said, distracting both of them. Dominic visibly paled as the tall, gorgeous, blonde girl came up to them, jumping into his barely open arms. He looked over her shoulder at Mika, his expression saying  _ this isn’t what it looks like _ , but the whole interaction made it difficult for her to bite back laughter. Because she knew it was  _ exactly _ what it looked like, because they’d had this moment before, but this time she didn’t care. This time, it didn’t hurt. This time, she only felt relieved.

The blonde girl was chattering very quickly in French, clearly expressing how much she’d missed him and happy she was to see him. Dominic continued to look vaguely panicked, as if he was trying to figure out how he was going to backtrack. Plus, he was still reeling from the information she shared. The girl pulled away, noticing that his attention was elsewhere, and immediately straightened up. 

“So sorry,” she said in English, her accent thick. Now that her attention was on her, Mika could see exactly how beautiful she was. She reached her hands out, grasping one of Mika’s in both of hers. “How rude of me. I’m Jolie, a...friend of Dominique’s.” Mika could sense the hesitation in the other girl, wondering exactly who she was and what their relationship meant. She didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, or get Dominic in trouble. 

“Mika.” she replied, shaking her hand with a warm smile. “And friend is a strong word for how I feel about Dominic.”

She watched as the girl deciphered her words, trying to look subtly between the two of them. Mika still smiled, while Dominic was still flushed and would be sweating if this world allowed it. He finally plastered a fake grin on his face, chuckling as lightheartedly as he could manage. 

“Mika and I have known each other for a very long time.” he explained, making both women wonder what exactly he was trying to imply with that statement. Mika decided to shut down whatever it was.

“We’ve been making our way towards the coast. I want to see if there’s a way for me to get to New York, to find my husband.” she said. In that moment, she could swear she saw Dominic deflate a bit, but she held her ground. This was it, his last stop. Jolie clasped her hands in front of her chest, blinking back tears.

“That’s so romantic!” she exclaimed. She reached out, grabbing Mika’s wrists. “You two, you must stay with me tonight. I share an apartment, very close to the port, when it gets light again you’ll be right there.” 

“No, Jolie, we couldn’t possibly-” Dominic started to say, but Mika cut him off.

“That would be perfect. Thank you so much.” she said, actually feeling sincere in her words. She’d been stressed about where they would stay tonight, having seen a few people that seemed a bit rougher around the edges. She didn’t need to take any risks, not with the most dangerous part of her quest before her. 

“Yes, of course! Any friend of Dominique is a friend of mine.” she said, finally letting go of one of her hands so she could reach out and grab Dominic’s, his face quickly forming into a smile as she reached for him. “Come, come, the light is fading. We must go.” 

Jolie was also a fast walker, for which Mika was very grateful. Two fast-walking women meant that Dominic could no longer loiter and slow them down. And if he tried? Well, they agreed that he could catch up. The apartment Jolie led them to was small but cozy, and the little details that were present said that she had lived there in the real world for a long time. 

“I’m sorry, normally I would have food and wine to offer you, but…” she laughed nervously when they arrived. Mika could spot two other bedrooms in the flat, and a third door that was closed; that must be the person that shared it with her. One of the bedrooms was completely blank, while the other was tastefully decorated. 

“Don’t worry about it. Thank you for giving us a place to stay.” Mika said, stretching her arms over her head. The sky was such a dark shade of purple that it was nearly black, the starless night ominously threatening to swallow them whole. “I think it’s just best to rest, it’s been a long walk.” She refused to use  _ we _ for anything in the conversation, wanting zero claim on Dominic. He had another friend here, one that could keep him company until they figured out how to get back where they belonged. 

“Oh, of course, yes.” she said. She looked between the two of them and the two bedrooms, trying to decide how they should make the sleeping arrangements; would it be inappropriate to have Dominic stay in her room, or should she ask Mika? The girl was so sweet about everything that Mika wanted to make it easy for her, and spoke up before she had to try and figure it out herself.

“Would you mind if Dominic shared your room? I’ll be leaving early, I don’t want to wake either of you.” she explained. Jolie looked visibly relieved at the question, glad she wasn’t going to have to figure out the dynamics all on her own.

“That is fine, as long as it is fine with you.” she said, addressing Dominic. He clenched his jaw for just a second before putting a smirk on his face, though Mika could see that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Of course, love.” he replied, making Jolie’s smile widened. Mika nodded at the two of them, giving an awkward gesture somewhere between a wave and a salute as she stepped back towards the spare bedroom.

“Perfect. Thank you again, Jolie. I think I’m just going to go to bed.” she said. The girl gave her a fond goodnight wish before Mika walked into the room, closing the door behind her and reveling in the blissful silence, and the knowledge that come tomorrow, she’d be crossing the sea to New York and wouldn’t have to worry about Dominic anymore. The room was empty except for a bed, but that didn’t matter to her. That was all she needed for right now. She laid on the mattress and wrote in her journal, getting every last detail down before allowing herself to fall asleep. 

A woman of her word, she woke up early, even earlier than she originally anticipated. The sky is still plum in color, trying to make its way back to red. Mika wondered, if she wished hard enough, if she could make a sun appear in the sky. She closed her eyes and tried as hard as she could to envision the sun, but when she opened them, the sky was still just a solid sheet of purple. With a sigh, she picked up her bag and pulled on her boots, determined to be on a boat as soon as possible. The apartment was silent as she tip-toed out the front door, closing it softly behind her before heading towards the sound of the ocean. Jolie was right; she only needed to cross a couple of streets before the coastline opened up in front of her, actual waves lapping at the shore. How were there still waves, when there was no moon? Perhaps the water was just pulled by the collective consciousness that thought it was supposed to move. The marina had boats at every slot, but most of their windows were dark, and they gave the distinct sense of being empty. Could she pilot a boat, all by herself? She’d never done it before, and it would certainly be dangerous, but the risk would be lower if she didn’t have to worry about starvation or exposure.

She slowly walked down the dock, looking for any sign of life in any of the crafts. Were they only here because other people remembered them being here? That seemed to be the case. Panic started to creep into her chest, telling her that she was done, that her plan had failed, that she was stuck waiting here for who knows how long until someone saved them.  _ You did your best, Little Bird _ , Bucky’s voice said to her. But she couldn’t help but feel like she failed him. He’d done everything to help her learn to survive on her own, and all she’d been able to do was walk to the French coast. 

She was in full self-pity mode by the time she reached the end of the dock, and she sat down to hang her legs over the ledge and stare out at the water. Somewhere, across the weird indigo sea, Bucky was waiting for her. She’d been able to walk all this way, but she had a feeling that swimming would be out of the question.

“Gonna hurt yerself if ya keep thinkin’ that hard.” a man’s voice drawled, startling her. She nearly fell off the dock she turned so fast, clambering to her feet. An older gentleman, hair and mustache gone grey, stared at her from the bow of his boat. He was leaning his forearms on the railing, and his skin was the ruddy leather color that accompanied years in the sun. The accent is what really surprised her, though; he sounded like the men from the Western movies.

“Are you...French?” she asked carefully, making him chuckle lowly. He hopped off the boat, landing so easily on the dock that she wondered if he simply looked a lot older than he was. She definitely knew multiple men like that.

“Not quite, darlin’. And I don’t s’pose you are either.” he said, his voice gravelly. When Mika didn’t reply immediately, he continued, “Was born here on base, lived here ‘til I was two. Then we moved back to New Orleans. Name’s Lee Miller.” 

“Mika. Mika Barnes. I’m from Romania. Walked all the way here.” she said in return, taking his outstretched hand and figuring if he was sharing then so could she. Her heart was thumping painfully in her chest; could this man help her?  _ Would _ he?

“Hell of a walk.” John said, his silver eyebrows raised high. “Just passing the time?”

She gulped and took a breath. It was now or never. “Trying to get to New York. Back to my husband.”

He was quiet for a second, taking in her words. His expression was unreadable, and Mika held her breath as she waited for him to respond. “That’s mighty romantic, darlin’, but I gotta play devil’s advocate a bit: how do you know he’s over there waitin’ for ya?”

“We were together, when the snap happened. I went just before him.” she explained, gripping the strap of her bag. “Can you take me there?” 

“There’s no sun, no stars, no way for me to navigate.” he said, looking as apologetic as he sounded. “I’m sorry. All’s I got left is this compass, and she don’t even point straight anymore.”

He held up the compass, showing how the needle was dancing in steady arcs back and forth across the rose. Mika furrowed her brows; something about it made her want to investigate it further. She unconsciously reached for it, and he barely hesitated before holding it out to her. As soon as it was resting on her palm, the needle stopped, it’s point directed west of them. She looked up, her jaw slack, and found that Lee looked just as surprised as she. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” he said, his hands on his hips. He stood up a little taller then, his eyes going out over the ocean. “Guess we’ve got a direction.”

“So you’ll take me?” she asked, her voice betraying how hopeful she felt. For a brief moment she stopped, remembering that she didn’t know this man, and that she couldn’t be sure she could trust him. But he had a boat, and a magic compass, and a gentle demeanor. And she couldn’t help but feel that it was meant to be. Lee continued looking out over the ocean, weighing the possibilities.

“Ya know, I think I just might.” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. “Long time ago, my wife told me that I needed to start listenin’ to the world when it tried to say somethin’. And I think it’s talkin’ to me now.” 

“Your wife, is she…” Mika didn’t know how to ask the question.  _ Is she here with you _ ? But Lee shook his head before she could finish.

“She died a long time ago, before any of this mess came about.” he replied. Only then did she notice the gold band on his ring finger; it was just a touch too big for him, and when he moved his hand, she could see the pale skin underneath that had been hidden from the sun for years. Mika went to apologize for his loss, but he seemed to have no interest in it, instead going back to the boat and pulling down the metal ladder. She followed him eagerly as he climbed up, accepting the hand he offered to help her the last few steps onto the boat. Her heart was pounding, and her fingers ached slightly from how tightly she was gripping the compass, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was going. 

As Lee started getting the boat ready, Mika looked back towards the shore. In the distance, she could see Dominic standing at the edge of the dock, hands in his pockets. She couldn’t read his expression from where she stood, but she could see that he wasn’t making any moves towards her. And she wasn’t about to get off the boat to go to him. As Lee pushed the boat away from the dock, Mika held her hand up in a final goodbye. She’d gotten him this far, and now he was on his own. He didn’t wave back; he simply turned and walked away. 

…

Bucky was getting really tired of this stupid red sky. 

It always looked angry, which in turn made him  _ feel _ angry. He was still stuck in New York, the only thing keeping him there being Dr. Strange’s words:  _ you’ll pass like two ships in the night _ . And even though it went against every fiber of his being, he heeded his words, because the risk was too great not to. 

It was still quiet down below on the streets. Without the necessity of food and work, people were more inclined to sleep in, or to stay inside. But Bucky was always up early, sitting on the roof and keeping an eye out. Some less than savory characters had started banding together, trying to lay claims like they were stuck in some terrible 1940’s gang film. Bucky, Sam, and Peter took it upon themselves to try and keep a little bit of the order, especially once they realized that life could still end in this place. 

He could hear Peter before he saw him, the quiet  _ psst-chck _ of his web shooters alerting him to his arrival. He looked up as the kid landed on his roof, the iron on his spider suit glinting red in the light as he walked over, settling casually on the edge of the rooftop with him. 

“See anything?” he asked, making Bucky nearly snort in amusement. 

“Same shit, different day.” he responded, looking back out over the cityscape. Dr. Strange tried to get them to set up shop in Manhattan, but Bucky had no interest in staying in the Avengers tower. Instead he returned each night to his Brooklyn apartment, and even though it was weird to see his life from before the War, it still felt better than in the massive tower that just begged for trouble. Peter nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. He swung his legs like a little kid, his heels tapping softly against the side of the building. Bucky was hoping he’d be content to sit in the silence, but knew better by now.

“Mr. Bucky?” Peter asked, his own awkward way to start a conversation.

“Just Bucky, kid.” he replied, getting tired of explaining to him that he wasn’t an  _ authority figure _ . 

“Right. Bucky.” he said, trying it out and still obviously feeling weird about it. “What, uh, what do you think is happening? On the outside?” 

Bucky paused; he hadn’t actually thought about that. “Not sure. Been worried about other stuff.” 

“You’re not worried about getting out of here?” Peter asked incredulously. This time, Bucky did allow himself a brief huff of a laugh. 

“I’m sure they’ll figure something out. But until then, we gotta keep it all together in here. There’s nothing we can do otherwise.” he explained. After years of missions, he knew which ones were in his power to affect, and which ones were others’ responsibilities. 

“And find your wife.” Peter offered. Bucky’s amusement dropped then; he couldn’t help but feel like he was abandoning Mika by not going to search for her, even if he’d already been told that the search would be fruitless.

“Yea. Kinda my only goal.” he admitted. It’s not like it was earth shattering information to Peter; that was all Bucky had talked about since they met. Peter rested his elbows on his knees, his face giving away that he was weirdly concerned about something, but afraid to ask. “Spit it out, kid.”

“Huh what?” Peter said, sitting straight up and attempting to look innocent (and failing miserably). “I didn’t - I wasn’t - I don’t-”

“Your face gives you away. Just say whatever you’re thinking.” he deadpanned. Peter let his mouth hang open for a second as he tried to decide how serious Bucky was, then closed it and looked down at his hands before saying,

“No, I - it’s just, this whole time I…” he trailed off, still getting his thoughts together. “I just, you know, knew you as the Winter Soldier. Mr. Stark had all this crazy intel on you and…”

“It’s all true.” he said. He knew Tony had all the details of his missions by now, all his sins organized in a nice little packet. But he’d closed the book on that part of his life, and had no problem saying so. 

“But you’re married.” Peter said, though the statement was more of a question. Ah, so that was the piece that didn’t fit. “And she’s your biggest concern and I can’t help but think that...maybe his intel was wrong.”

Bucky sighed. He didn’t know what brought on this conversation, but he almost welcomed it. It was nice to know someone besides Mika saw him as more than just the Winter Soldier. “I’d probably still be some version of the guy in the file if it weren’t for her.”

“So love...changes things?” he asked, and Bucky got the sudden impression that they weren’t talking about him anymore.

“What’s her name, kid?” he asked. He was never one to beat around the bush, even before everything he went through with Hydra. Peter blushed furiously, telling him that he’d been right. He looked like he was thinking about trying to lie to him, but ultimately gave up.

“MJ.” he said softly. Bucky nodded.

“Look, I got two pieces of advice for you.” he said, thinking of his journey with Mika and everything that had happened between them, both before and after they were romantically involved. “The first is that you can’t expect them to change. You have to love them for who they are.” That had been Dominic’s mistake, though why he tried so hard to get Mika to change was beyond Bucky. He thought she was perfect just the way she was, including all her flaws. Lord knows he had enough flaws of his own.

“No, no I never would.” Peter said quickly, looking appalled at the thought. “Expect her to change, that is. I mean, what’s the point of liking her if I want her to be different? Then I wouldn’t really like her. I just...I mean, I like her. And she always said she’s not gonna date in high school, which like, I totally get, but I’m just hoping that maybe, if she liked me too, she might change her mind about it. But if she didn’t, then, well, I mean I’d still like her but-”

“The second piece of advice, kid,” Bucky interrupted before Peter could really get rolling arguing himself, “is not to wait too long to say anything. Make your time count.” He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he’d simply sat on his feelings, and he also didn’t want to think about how many weeks of his life he wasted by hiding them. As much as Peter annoyed him, he liked the kid, and wanted him to learn from his mistakes.

“Oh. Yea. Yea that makes sense.” he said, going quiet and looking at him seriously. Bucky carefully returned his face to neutral, trying not to give his thoughts away. But then, why was he trying to hide his thoughts from a kid? He should know how much it hurt to miss the one that you love. He looked away from Peter, dropping his eyes to his hands as he ran his metal thumb over his palm; the pain helped distract from the shard in his heart. Peter finally figured out his concern, and gently said, “I’m sure she’s gonna be okay, mis-Bucky.”

“I hope so, kid.” he sighed. He couldn’t afford to think otherwise. 

A sudden scream rose a few blocks over, and Bucky glanced skyward for a second before climbing to his feet. Peter hopped up at the ready, shaking his hands out like he was trying to warm up for the fight. Bucky laughed, shaking his head before gesturing towards the disturbance and starting down the fire escape, knowing Peter was swinging down right behind them.

There weren’t terribly loud sounds of fighting; in fact, there were almost none. But the scream they heard before was still sounding, though it was muffled. Bucky did not care for that at  _ all _ . He ran through the streets, following Peter as he used his webs to fly. They finally found the source in an alley; one guy stood guard at the mouth of it, while two others were wrestling a woman towards the back. Peter landed feet first into the chest of the lookout guy, sending him flying into the wall. A few patchwork shots of web stuck him to the bricks, ensuring that he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. Bucky sprinted in after him, punching one guy in the jaw and grabbing the other by his shirt collar, throwing him back away from the woman. Instead of running, she sank to the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, still screaming at what was going on around her. Peter sank next to her, trying to say something soothing while protecting her from the melee. 

The first guy found a bat and swung it hard at Bucky, but he easily caught it with his metal arm and ripped it away. He tossed it over to the side, giving the guy an unamused look. But instead of giving up, the guy took it as a challenge, holding up his fists and shifting toward him. God, they never learned. The guy sent his fist out, and Bucky easily tilted his head out of the way. Another swing, and another dodge. He was tired of this game, and waited for the guy to finish a third punch before socking him in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious. 

“Bucky, watch-” Peter’s warning was too late, the second guy slamming the discarded bat into Bucky’s back. It hurt, yea, in an annoying way. The blow barely shifted him forward but managed to break the bat in half, and he quickly turned. The other guy saw the look on his face and immediately regretted his decision, changing his mind and trying to run away. Bucky grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him into the wall, holding him there as he eyed him darkly.

“Messing with women is a real asshole move.” he said lowly. The guy nodded fervently, too scared to speak. In a past life, Bucky would have killed him. He wasn’t going to kill him now...but he wanted him to believe that he would. “I catch you doing this shit again, we find out what happens when you die again. Got it?”

“Y-y-yes.” he stammered out. Bucky almost grinned; he didn’t mind being terrifying if it was to get people to clean up their acts. 

“Good.” he said. But he still didn’t trust the guy had learned his lesson, so he slammed him against the wall, knocking him out as well. The concussion would heal, the world had shown them that much. He dragged him over next to his buddy and Peter webbed them up as well, giving them a little time to think about their decisions once they woke up. The woman, now standing and still shaking, looked at him gratefully. 

“Thank you.” she said, her voice raw from her screams. She held herself tightly, shying away even from Peter’s touch. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if…” 

“Don’t worry about it. You’re safe now.” Bucky said gently. He remembered that night, so many years ago, when Mika had experienced something similar. She’d asked him to stay with her until Elena got there, saying she was afraid to be by herself. “Do you have someone here? Someone you can go to? You shouldn’t be alone right now.” 

She nodded carefully. “My sister. She’s still asleep. I was just going for a walk…” she trailed off, her eyes blinking as she tried not to cry. 

“We’ll take you home.” he said, his voice solid and sure. Peter still stood protectively next to her, his eyes drifting over to the other guys every so often. Bucky tried to speak without words: the web would hold for a while. They could come back and give these guys another stern talking to. 

“I’m okay, it’s just down the block.” she said, hugging herself tighter. Ah, right. She probably didn’t want to be by herself with men any longer than she had to be. She was already subtly putting space between them. “But really, I can’t thank you enough.”

“No thanks needed.” Peter replied, giving a winning, friendly-neighborhood-Spiderman smile. The woman nodded, turning on her heel and running for the apartment building down the street. It was an odd interaction, for sure. But everything about this place was odd, and they were just going to have to try and hold it together until they got out.

“Bucky?” a woman called his name, the sound so familiar he wondered if he was dreaming. He turned slowly, afraid he was hallucinating, but Peter was looking in that direction too. There, just a few yards away, stood Mika. She had a bag over her shoulder and a compass in her hand, and she was  _ there. _ She’d made it back to him!

“Mika.” he breathed, rooted to the spot. She ran to him, closing the distance quickly and falling into his waiting arms. He squeezed her tight, tighter than he should, amazed that she was here, and real, and that they were finally back together. He was so caught up in the moment, he completely forgot Peter was there.

“Holy shit,  _ this _ is your wife?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in conclusion: fuck dominic.
> 
> do y'all love peter??? cause i do!!


End file.
